


The Crest of Merlin

by Erissur



Series: The Crest of Merlin [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, Blood mentioned, Bullying, Druids, Hate, M/M, Magic, Panic Attacks, Second class citizenship, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Hatred, cursing, romantic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-28
Updated: 2018-08-28
Packaged: 2019-07-03 20:25:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 89,620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15826302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Erissur/pseuds/Erissur
Summary: With Old Magic in his blood and half his heritage saying he’s a druid and the other saying he’s a muggle, Virgil is kicked out of his druidic community after the death of his grandmother, his only living relative.  Entering his fifth year, he must now instead live at Hogwarts, the only place that was willing to teach him when the druids would not.One day, there’s news of the archeological finding of Camelot and rumors of the rise of the Once and Future King and Merlin himself are quickly being speculated and a movement for a connected society between wizards, witches and muggles are on the rise.With druids circulating the wizarding community, questioning of the Status of Secrecy, magic that are going haywire, an old family heirloom that won’t open and a Gryffindor that doesn’t take no for an answer:What could a year at Hogwarts really entail for a certain Slytherin?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> If you want news from The Crest of Merlin (the series) I'm thinking of posting some via my tumblr "thestoryoferissur"  
> Hope I'll see you there and that you want to learn more of this universe.

The light was dimmed from the thickening grey clouds that threatened to let their sorrows pour down upon the welsh island of Anglesey.

  
It was as if the world knew of the agony and attempted to let someone know of the pain that he hid behind a stoic and silent mask.

  
Virgil stood again with a sigh.

  
One of his professors had come standing at his doorstep only an hour earlier, telling him that he was to be accompanied to Hogwarts, since his situation was a “special case” making it difficult for him to travel with the other students the next weekend.

  
He had been asked to pack his bag and all of the school supplies that he had already had in his possession. The professor would help him collect the rest at Diagon Alley before they would travel to the school by portkey.

  
As Virgil kicked around the garden of his late grandmother’s, looking for his stupid cat Fetch, his mood kept plummeting even further at the thought of how he would never be able to return.

  
The smells of the high, wild grass and the ocean not far away, and the sight of the small cottage he grew up in, with all its little trinkets, dried herbs and shining crystals, almost made it unbearable to be there, his grey eyes flitting from one space filled with memories to another.

  
His grandmother had been perfect.

  
Even though he had been meant to be cast out of their order, together with his parents, she had stood her ground, stood up to the other elders and made them let him stay. It was not his fault that his parents decided to get married, he was just a child! Her only grandchild.

  
Even though he had never been an official outcast, it had very much felt like it and he would have acted accordingly if not for his respect toward his grandmother. She was his only link to the order, and with her gone, the last living string that connected him to his druidic heritage had disappeared.

  
Normally druids did not attend schools of witchcraft and wizardry such as Hogwarts, they taught their own and kept to themselves, not very often merging with the wizarding community and never with the muggle world. But with him they would not let him participate at the lessons for the kids, he was not worthy enough.

  
He had not felt it more than the day of his ten-year birthday, where a druid would get a triskelion tattoo right underneath the collarbone, a sign of heritage and a connection to nature and magic of old. It was something to be proud of, a day to celebrate. He had been denied that.

  
It had not been long after that, that his magic had begun showing much more aggressive signs, that a middle-aged ministry official and an elderly witch with a pointy hat and a stern face had knocked on their door and had come with the suggestion of him attending Hogwarts instead of walking around like a ticking timebomb. Professors McGonagall’s words.

  
Since the professors understood his “special case” with him not having anywhere to go after his grandmother’s death, and his parent’s earlier deaths when their house had, had a gas leak, the teachers had together with the board, made an exception to the rule, or so professor Sanders had claimed, and chosen to let him live at the school for the last duration of his school years.

  
Which in short meant for the next three years and then he would be alone.

  
Though he already felt it.

  
Virgil had walked the garden aimlessly, halfheartedly calling for his cat, unconsciously trying to stretch the time before his deportation.

  
Unfortunately, as if the mere realization of what he was doing called for irony and punishment, Fetch ran out from the underbrush, her sleek, black coat matted from the receding light, her yellow eyes dark and her mouth filled with… a paper ball?

  
“No, Fetch” Virgil groaned to himself, looking to the heavens for help.

  
That cat never did what was told. Nothing could be left alone before that cat came to collect it for her burrow underneath his bed. Whether it was his bed here or at his dorm had never mattered.

  
She was weird like that.

  
She looked at him for approval, saliva flooding the paper little by little.

  
Virgil could not help the snort, as he went to pick her slight frame up and into his arms. she began purring at once, colliding her head with his chin in greeting, making his aching heart feel slightly better.

  
“You’re a weird-ass cat, you know that Fetch?”

  
She answered with a soft trill, letting the paper fall upon the sleeve of his favorite hoodie.

  
Disgusting.

  
“Morgan!”

  
Virgil turned toward the cottage, where professor Sanders came dragging his suitcase and cat carrier through the backdoor, a polite smile on his lips and his colorful robes flowing around him.

  
His rather tense face lit up in relief as he caught sight of the bundle of Havana Brown cat, in the arms of the dark-haired teenager.

  
“Oh, you found the cat! Excellent” he said and with a flourish pulled out a leather belt from a pocket.

  
“Are you ready to go?”

  
No, never. He wanted to say it, but the words caught in his throat as he looked around for the last time.

  
The garden was where his grandmother had taught him of flowers and herbs, which had magical properties, and which were used for proclamations of love. He had sat upon the stonewall and observed as she had used wandless magic to repair the roof, uttering druidic spells of old, in words no longer used – forgotten as Latin had taken over.

  
She had let him run in the rain, exclaiming astonishment when he had made a dry dome around himself, giving him a space to protect against the wet drops, that he made fall heavier and the wind picking up in strength as he had laughed carefree and childlike.

  
Virgil swallowed a lump, before nodding slightly.

  
Professor Sanders nodded in response before walking closer, petting Fetch behind her ear and holding the leather belt out for him to take.

  
“Virgil.”

  
Virgil and professor Sanders both looked up toward the gruff voice.

  
Standing in the backdoor entrance stood the leader of the elders, Taliesin.

  
He was wearing his druidic robes, with the hood pulled up, almost hiding the whole of his face behind a curtain of shadow. In his arms was a small, old-looking, wooden box, held carefully in his soft grip.

  
Virgil bowed his head slightly in respect but could feel the tension in his stomach grow and his heart beating harder against his chest. Taliesin did not reciprocate the sign of acknowledgement.

  
“We were never supposed to let you stay” Taliesin told him softly.

  
No shit, Virgil thought to himself, trying very hard not to role his eyes at the blatant use of the sentence that every adult in their order had uttered in his direction at least thrice, and had taught their children to start telling him as soon as they knew what it meant. He was not one of them. He was not whole, only halfway into the community that valued their history, heritage, spirituality and the many druidic traditions that they had kept alive for millennia. He was but a halfling. Born by a mother who had, had the soul of old and life of a druid, but she had loved a simple man. An English muggle.

  
Virgil’s blood and magic were unclean. And no one let him ever forget it, not even his grandmother’s protection could silence the hurtful words he had, had to endure all his life.

  
Taliesin walked closer, his old legs slow but his back straight and prideful. Virgil could hear professor Sanders shift slightly beside him, as the elder came to a stop in front of them, his wrinkled face shown slightly as the shadow disappeared from it.  
“I am not trying to diminish the way that we have treated you, but you do fully well know that we cannot let a non-druid stay in our community” he told him.

  
Non-druid.

  
It stung quite a bit, Virgil could feel how his body drew inward and how Fetch stopped purring in his arms.

 

“Though Alaw, may she rest in peace, wanted you to have a reminder about this side of your ancestry, when she could no longer be in this world.”

  
Taliesin stretched the wooden box out toward Virgil. It had old sigils carved into the surface of the lid. And faded, painted flowery art on its sides. He shifted Fetch unto one arm and took it carefully from the druid leader, turning it this way and that to look it all over. The bottom had many small initials carved into the wood, and a key hole at the front, that would not open without a key when he tested it. He could hear things rattle inside of it, which only further sparked his curiosity. Virgil looked up through his fringe, the question floating in his mind, as to how the heck he was supposed to get whatever it contained, without the key.

  
“The box has gone through your specific family for many generations. Many more than we can remember” he told him. “It has been magically bound, and the key has always been lost, but it is rightfully yours and so it shall be passed on to you… as Alaw wanted it.”

 

“Right” Virgil answered, the disbelief clear in his voice. “Thanks.”

  
The elder took a couple of steps back, before standing with his hands clasped together in front of him.

  
“We will have you in prayer tonight, to wish you a safe journey with few trials in the societies beyond our own.”

  
Virgil clicked his tongue at the formality and shifted both cat and box, to get a better grip on both and at the same time, letting it be easier for him to grab the leather belt. He did not glance back before he had the portkey in his hand. Professor Sanders looked at a small, golden pocket watch, before nodding at him, a small comforting smile playing on his face. Virgil could not stop the cheeky call he made, as the portkey started its transportation.

  
“Don’t wait up old man!”

 

 

  
The street of Diagon Alley was busy, with both adults doing window-shopping, families getting ice cream at Florean Fortescue’s Ice Cream Parlor and students doing their school shopping, buying their supplies for the new school year. Flamboyant colors mixed with the scents of warm summer air and the clothing on display outside of Madam Malkins the two of them were stepping out of, with bags filled with new, fitting school robes for him, created a calm scenery on an otherwise gloom day.

  
Virgil had achieved in a growth spurt of three inches during the summer break, making him 5.8 feet and his old pant legs hanging above his ankles.

  
Professor Sanders had scoffed when he had asked what Virgil needed, after they had picked up some money from his grandmother’s box in Gringotts and Virgil had tried getting out of shopping. There were too many people in the streets, too much noise and eyes that Virgil had felt were constantly on his back.

  
The fact that the professor had opened his suitcase in the middle of the street and held a couple of his dark pants out in front of him to measure, did not help on the sudden nervousness either. It had then been decided that he needed a new wardrobe for the school year.

  
The embarrassment from that had not disappeared, even as they walked down the street, his suitcase, on the wagon he pulled, filled with new shirts, pants and robes. They walked in silence. The professor could probably feel the tension flowing around Virgil’s slight frame and had chosen to keep his mouth shut, which Virgil was very thankful for.

  
The Second-Hand bookshop of Reynolds smelled of dust and old pages, as the two of them moved around the tables with mountains of books. Virgil had already gotten the last books he needed, and a first edition of the Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them book, that he definitely could use a couple of sickles and a single knut on.

  
He was moving silently along the walls, letting his hand glide slightly over the hardback covers, of the elder spell books. The sun shone into the store through the large window, giving the room a golden glow and making the dust glitter in the air around him.  
It was calming. But suffocating at the same time, the air thickening the longer he waited for the professor to finish talking with the store manager.

  
Virgil looked behind him, seeing the two men discuss the price of a book that professor Sanders was cradling to his chest.

  
He let out an impatient sigh and quickly decided to walk out the door and join Fetch and his things that stood just outside next to the big window, remembering to make sure that the distracted professor could see him, when he found the time to do so.  
Virgil bowed down to look inside the cat carrier, meeting the lazy eyes of his best friend.

  
“Hey there girl… you doing good?”

  
Fetch yawned big and started purring at the sound of his voice, before she got ready to sleep some more in her huddle of soft pastel towels.

  
“Wish I could care as much as you do about anything” he chuckled, poking softly at the carrier. Fetch meowed quietly, sounding more like a kitten than the actual adult cat that she was supposed to be. Virgil’s heart melted a bit at that.

  
The sound of boisterous laughter broke the peace of calm talking and soft playing of a gramophone somewhere in the street. The laughter was three distinguished laughter’s. One a slight chortle, the other quite melodious and the last a thrown-head-back and laughing loudly for others to hear kind. One that made his heart skip a beat.

  
Virgil tried to hide himself away behind his properties, but no matter how he twisted, turned and cramped, he could not manage in disappearing or even think to run into the store again, before the coming sixth years walked toward him. Their laughter stopping once one of them recognized him.

  
The red haired, sweater wearing Gryffindor pushed his house mates, smiling and nodding toward him as he got their attention.

  
A rowdy laugh came from the tall, blonde as he stepped in front of his friends, closer to Virgil, who now saw no point in hiding any longer and stood up. He tried seeming unintimidated by the most popular pair of chocolate brown eyes at Hogwarts.  
The tip of his ears began reddening.

  
“Well, well. Isn’t it the druidic snake” the older boy started. “Where are you slithering off to? I didn’t know that druids came to these wizarding parts.”

  
Roman Ayers and his goons; Freddy and Maurice.

  
Great.

  
Virgil shrugged nonchalantly, ignoring the small stab of panic that arose in his chest. If he concentrated more about his own things, than giving them his attention, maybe they would leave him alone after a bit of time.  
“I think he’s ignoring us!” the biggest of them, Maurice, yelped dramatically. “Maybe if we poke him with a stick, he’ll actually do something instead of being such a coward.”

  
Roman chuckled with his friends, before stepping forward, moving with grand gestures as he used his unnecessary dramatic flair to seem bolder than he really was. As if Virgil really was a snake they were teasing, as it sunbathed peacefully on a rock.

  
Virgil followed the gestures carefully with his eyes, as Roman moved closer to him, a big smile broken out on his face and his eyes glinting with mischief. Virgil tried curling further in on himself, looking behind him in through the window, looking for a certain teacher to come out. Please.

  
Something grabbed his shoulder tightly, making Virgil jump back as if the touch had burned him, turning to hiss loudly at the offending object, his face scrunching up in a dangerous mask.

  
The eyes that just seconds before had taking great pleasure in making Virgil as uncomfortable as possible, were now wide in surprise at the reaction that were given to them. Roman’s hand had swiftly moved away from Virgil, instead used as a shield in front of him, making a gesture that was meant to calm him down. But it did not.

  
It was as if the world stood still and Virgil had time to take in every reaction and facial expression of his behavior. Eyes widened on the faces of the bullies, people passing by looked back at the commotion with unfiltered disturbed faces.

  
As he finally understood how weird it all must have seemed, the world started spinning again and his heart started pumping faster and faster, his face paling drastically and the hiss between his teeth abruptly disappeared, leaving instead a face of horror of what he had done.

  
With a sinking sensation, he saw smiles break out on the faces of Freddy and Maurice, before peals of laughter broke out from the both of them, startling Virgil badly. Even Roman jumped a tiny bit.

 

“He really hissed!” laughed Freddy loudly, “You’re truly a Snake Boy!”

  
“Come on then Basilisk! Give us your biggest, baddest hiss” joined Maurice in, with his chortling laugh.

  
The both of them started hissing back at Virgil mockingly, raising their hands in front of them, shaking them, to appear dangerous. Some of the extra spectators were smiling and chuckling softly behind the bullies.

  
A smile was threatening to break out on Roman’s lips as he yet again regained his bravado, standing taller and awfully confident in front of Virgil’s mortified form.

  
He felt heat form in his stomach and the blood in his paling face returned full force with the anger that crashed around him in furious waves.

  
Virgil walked around the wagon with his beloved cat and suitcase on and walked straight up in the face of Roman, pushing his hands hard against the jock’s chest, making him stumble back, indignant anger making its way across his face at the shove.

  
“It’s funny huh?! What’s your problem man?”

  
The laughing behind Roman stopped and soon his goons were standing by his sides once again. Standing there as if he was the one that started it all. Damn all their stupid self-righteous Gryffindor tendencies.  
God, he hated Gryffindors.

  
Virgil stared them all in the eyes, only breaking eye contact when he tried intimidating the next one. He felt in control for once, they were not covering before him, but the fact that they had minds to at least stop talking was enough for Virgil to stand taller and stretch his arms out by his sides, chin held high and grey eyes piercing his tormentors.

  
“Where’s that Gryffindor courage at? Scared?”

 

A satisfied smirk broke out, at the sight of Roman freaking Ayers glowering at him but choosing not to engage for once. Which truthfully was a pity now that Virgil was finally itching for a fight.

  
In all the tension and aggressive teenage, testosterone, Virgil did not see how the three Gryffindor’s eyes shifted slightly to his right, before turning back to Virgil. Roman even looked shortly at the ground before him, taking a few small steps back toward his friends that backed him up.

  
Virgil was too far gone, choosing to follow Roman’s steps, his smirk almost changing into a smile at the victory that awaited him. He was about to keep roasting the Hogwarts “Prince” but as he stepped forward, opening his mouth, something grabbed the back of his collar, pulling him back and making him stumble back toward his wagon and almost falling over it.

  
Fetch began yowling, surprised when her case was shaken around the compart, walking around the tiny space she had to move around in.

  
Virgil looked up as someone pulled him back to his feet, ready to give the person a piece of his mind. His face blanked though, and he quickly looked away, when he saw the serious “teacher” face of professor Sanders standing tall amongst the group of fighting teenagers.

  
“What in Merlin’s name do you think you’re doing?” he asked. Roman was about to answer, his dignified pose in control yet again, but was quickly silenced by a glare from their teacher.

  
“If this was at Hogwarts you would have gotten a detention for sure, all of you” he scolded, “but since I have no say outside of the walls, I will carefully tell you that as students of a prestigious school such as Hogwarts, you are required to have a certain sense of good behavior!”

  
They all bowed their heads in shame, though Virgil saw a couple of stink eyes shot his way through his black fringe. Stupid Gryffindors.

  
“Now be on your way, all of you, or I’ll be forced to write to your parents.”

  
The goons walked away quickly, leaving Roman to follow. Though before Roman turned fully he looked back at the professor, nodding slightly in respect, none of his grandeur anywhere to be seen.

  
“I’m sorry professor Sanders.”

  
Their teacher smiled slightly, before shooing Roman away with his hands.

  
“Just don’t let it happen again” he said, “have a nice last week of summer.”

  
Roman jumped and struck a pose, his hand in the air and his face looking toward the sun, a big, beautiful smile on his face. Virgil could puke.

  
“Never will I make such a foul display, in which could give a bad reputation to our darling Hogwarts! You have my word, my good sir!”

  
The good professor, gave a big, barking laugh as Roman finally left, a bouncy spring to his steps.

  
Virgil followed him with his eyes. The red and white robes could almost have been used as dress robes for a gala, it was ridiculous! Who wore clothing like that on a regular day? Who wore robes like that, period? Roman Ayers of course, as if he aspired to show off his pureblood status to the whole world.

  
“Virgil…”

  
Virgil closed his eyes for a moment, before moving to drag the wagon down the streets.

  
“Virgil, what happened?”

  
He did not respond. But when he had to shake of the adult’s hand from his shoulder, he turned toward him slightly, a carefully placed mask of indifference on his face.

  
“Nothing happened, we’re cool.”

  
As he turned toward the street again, he did not see the suspicious, calculating look that was send his way, but the teacher did not say anything else.

  
Virgil just wanted this day to end. He wanted to be able to lay down in his dorm bed, no his permanent bed, and just disappear from the world for the rest of the year.

  
But hey, you can’t get everything you want, or rather anything in Virgil’s case.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first ever fanfic and I must admit that I'm a bit nervous about publishing it, even though I'm very pleased with the outcome.  
> I want to thank my beta alexxxthebifangirlll from Tumblr, who has really been there for the story and apparantly is its number one fan!  
> I also want to thank faithfulcat111 for her art for the story, this is really been a brilliant experience.
> 
> Playlist for The Crest of Merlin - a song for each chapter:
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=x6wMinZPiHo&list=PLFZqzIR8tuAzMAnwsIAYEgwGUyDR-ILG9
> 
> Here is a link for her art:  
> https://faithfulcat111.tumblr.com/post/177571900388/hey-lovelies-its-faith-again-i-had-this-whole
> 
> Well, enough of that, go on and read the rest of the story!


	2. Chapter 2

The day of the arrival of all the other students was here, the week having been too long yet too short at the same time.

  
Virgil had not done much beside running away from the teachers when they walked down the corridors he himself was moving down at, sitting by the lake in the shadows of one of the grant trees, watching the giant squid splash around lazily in the sun, or chilling in his dorm room, laying in his bed and listening to music.

  
Fetch was all over the place, though always managing to bring him gifts each day. Today it had been a lovely, dead bird she had laid by the side of his pillow. He had nearly had a heart attack when he woke up to the dead eyes looking back at him.

  
He had stretched the time as far as it would go, lazing about in his bed, petting Fetch who had chosen to sleep upon his chest. Virgil dreaded this day.

  
Even if he had tried avoiding the teachers that were not on vacation and roamed around the castle, having quidditch matches and whatever else he had seen them do, this week had managed to be somewhat peaceful.

  
The weather had been nice, a bit clouded some of the days but warm. It always reminded him of the better summer days back home at the island. His vacation had started off as all the others, with helping his grandmother in the garden and sometimes being let in the kitchen to bake cookies.

  
But one day…

  
The evening before she had seemed tired but had brushed him off when he had asked if she was good, saying that it was only old bones troubling her a bit. She had stood slowly, kissed his cheek, giving Fetch on his shoulder a pet and told him that she would see him the next morning, bright and early, ready to harvest some of the marigolds in her garden.

  
But she had not come down.

  
He found her in her bed, nothing out of the ordinary just not… breathing. And she was cold to the touch.

  
Virgil sat up with a groan, tipping Fetch over in the bed and brushed the tears sitting on his eyelids away angrily.

  
He could not be caught crying by the other students. They would surely make up some dumb rumor about him being sensitive and then mix it up with some Slytherin crap that never had anything to do with whatever the rumor was about. Slytherin was just a go to insult every time, easy and evil.

  
Virgil slumped, his hands falling to his lap.

  
What time was it anyway?

  
He looked around for a bit, before remembering the clock above the door. Virgil’s eyes widened quickly, and the dark teen jumped from his bed in one swift move, collecting all of the pieces for his new school robe from the floor and threw it on hastily.  
Shit, shit, shit, shit.

  
His hands shook as he tried, and in the end, gave up on his tie, choosing instead to just let it hang around his neck as he ran out the room, Fetch on his heels trying to catch his shoelaces.

  
“Fetch! Stop it!” he hissed as he almost tumbled up the stairs, leading away from the Hogwarts dungeons. She yowled at him and made an elaborate jump before running back toward the dorm.

  
“Stupid cat” Virgil huffed with a laugh.

  
The sound of his fast-paced footsteps was being thrown loudly around the dark corridor before he finally came to the top and out by the grand staircase, finally letting himself breathe again, walking slowly toward the open doors.

  
Students were beginning to arrive, no first years yet of course, but a couple of Hufflepuffs were sitting around hugging and squealing at each other. He recognized some of them from his year. He was partnered with the boy with mousy hair and black framed glasses, a big rainbow braced smile on his freckled face, for a couple of classes in Care of Magical Creatures. If he recalled right his name was Patton, and he was a literal sunshine boy, which greatly diminished Virgil’s own dark cloud image and frankly, weirded him out a bit at first, but the dad puns got to him in their last class together.

  
Virgil snorted softly at the memory, shaking his head and walked to sit down by his own table.

  
Three Slytherin girls were sitting down at the other end of the table, one of them reflecting herself in a spoon while one of her friends was in the middle of braiding her long chestnut hair. They did not look up as Virgil sat down by the wall, a place where he could observe the rest of the hall without having too much attention on himself.

  
A mix of Gryffindors and Ravenclaws came in through the entrance in a group, before splitting up to walk to their respective seats. Segregation. Nice.

  
A dark haired Ravenclaw with big glasses scowled at his noisy house mates, before looking down at the huge open book in front of him again. The boy always sat in the same place, right in the perfect view of Virgil’s bored gaze. He did not know his name, but he was sure that he was a year beneath himself. Virgil loved to watch his deadpan look turned toward Roman and his goons, when they tried to sound clever for the girls.

  
He always knew when they had said something wrong, by the almost livid stare he always gave whatever book he had with him that day, after he had given the Gryffindors the deadpan that unfortunately always went ignored.

  
Virgil loved it though. The fact that he was not the only one hating on the popular group was the best thing he found out in his second year.

  
At some point, the Slytherin boys from his dorm room had entered the great hall and sat down by their table, Virgil a spot among them. They were talking about their summer vacations, most of them. By this it meant all of them except Virgil, had been out traveling.

  
“What about you Virge? Been out somewhere other than the island?” Jake asked. The eloquent roommate, that managed an elegance to his person that was both otherworldly, beautiful and frightening at the same time. He was the dark prince of Hogwarts to Roman’s golden. The one that even though he was a newly made fifth year, ruled the Slytherin house with an iron fist and his own admiring ambitions that had given him quite the fanbase I the house of green and silver. They were both blonde, but Jake had these ice blue eyes that could unnerve anyone at first.

  
Virgil shrugged nonchalantly.

  
“Nah man, nothing exciting happening.”

  
“We didn’t see you on the train; did you find a compartment for yourself?”

  
Virgil did not want to talk about how he had been at Hogwarts for the whole week and how he was banished from the island for forever. He never really talked that much with his dorm mates, having chosen to be more of a shadow at the school. If it were not for his father’s blood, he would not even have had to learn to use his magic at a school.

  
Either way, he had thought that he was better off not connecting with anyone outside of the druidic community. Though now, that plan had seemed pointless from the beginning, but he could not very well change it now. He would not change it.

  
Being a druid, even a non-druid put him in a box for the people who lived outside of the norm. he did not belong in their society. It was confusing, he did not belong anywhere now.

  
“Sat with some Hufflepuffs” he murmured.

  
Virgil watched them through his fringe, having looked down at his empty plate to avoid talking to them. He saw how they all exchanged exasperated looks before choosing to ignore him and talk amongst themselves instead.  
Jake glanced back at him a few times, his brow furrowed, but thankfully let him be.

  
The feast went on as always. The first years came in with professor Flitwick at the front and were sorted into their houses quickly afterwards. Slytherin got eleven new students, all of them big eyed and shy. Headmistress McGonagall gave a speech about the new year and laid down the overall rules for all the students. There were no new teachers this year, but the quidditch season would be delayed by a week because of some repairs that needed to be made to the pitch.

  
Groans and yells of dismay had been heard from all the teams, before a stern glare was sent their way from the ruthless Headmistress, silencing them at once.

  
The food had then disappeared, astonished exclamations coming from the first-year students, and everyone had been dismissed to their houses, having to be in bed within the hour.

  
Virgil followed the rest of the Slytherins calmly into the entrance hall, walking slowly, his hands hidden in his pockets and his back hunched over. So, the school year had officially begun. With a sigh, he started down the stairs to the dungeon, but a yell of his name made him spin around in confusion.

  
“Virgil! Hey!” a flash of black and yellow and then Virgil was engulfed within someone’s arms. Very strong arms at that, his breath was being squeezed right out of him.

  
After some work, he finally managed to get away from the offending arms, sending a glare in the person’s direction, while trying to not seem too ruffled by it all, as people were still walking by them.

  
“What is it Patton?” he asked, his voice low so as not to be heard.

  
“I just wanted to say hi before we all separated” Patton answered with a laugh, throwing a piece of Virgil’s tie around his neck like a scarf. Virgil felt a bit affronted by that, but a glint of gold on Patton’s chest caught his eye as he saw the emblem of the prefects standing proud.

  
“How was your summer?”

  
Virgil quickly looked away from him, as he whipped the tie back around again.

  
“Aren’t you supposed to show the first years to the commons?”

  
“I’ll catch up” he said with a smile. “So, how was it?”

  
“I- … Yea, it was pretty good.”

  
“That’s great!” Patton exclaimed loudly, eyes smiling up at him.

  
“I got a summer job at a farm back home; just ordinary muggle-work you know? I got to milk cows with the machine and feed the calves! They were so cute!”

  
Virgil half smiled to the floor. Patton was always so excited it was laughable.

  
“What did you do? Did you also have lots of sunshine?”

  
Virgil’s smile turned shaky and he could not find the courage to answer that question. As he lifted his head again to look back at the beaming face of Patton, his hair curling slightly, he smiled thinly back at him before starting walking down the stairs toward the Slytherin common room.

  
“I didn’t do much, I’ll see you tomorrow” he called back, not looking over his shoulder. They were not friends. He did not have friends at school, and you do not tell other people about your business, especially if it can hurt you at some point. Not that Virgil thought that Patton would tell anyone on purpose, but Patton always talked so loudly, everyone would know at some point, and he did not need that in his life.

  
Virgil scurried down the long hall, before stopping at the clear wall, saying the codeword he had gotten on his first day back. The bricks shifted along the wall, creating an opening for him to crawl through, before they shifted back to become the bare wall once again.

  
A group of first years were being shown around the commons, some of them looking bored others very attentive and slightly doe eyed. There were even a few that stared transfixed on the green windows with the Black Lake on the other side. Fish swimming passed them in the dark water.

  
Virgil walked right past them and down the hall toward the boys’ rooms. The fifth-year room was lit by the green lamps when he entered, his dorm mates all lying in their respective beds busily talking to each other. None of them were dressed for bed though, just laying on top of the covers, candy wrappers strewed upon their bedsheets.

  
Fetch was nowhere to be seen, but nothing weird came from that, she was always wandering around the castle most nights.

  
Virgil walked to the foot of his bed where his pajamas had been carelessly thrown, noticing a small mountain of colorful candies laying on top of his pillow, and began taking off his school uniform.

  
He saw Jake inspecting something in his hands, out of the corner of his eye. At first he did not think much of it, but then dread settled in when he thought of where he had put his heirloom. He quickly looked toward his own bedside table, where it was very noticeable that his grandmother’s wooden box had been removed.

  
Virgil whipped his wand out and in a fluid motion, called for the chest to come back to him.

  
“Accio box!”

  
The wooden box was yanked out of the hands of Jake, before the Snake of Slytherin could even remotely react. Virgil caught it and quickly turned around and laid his heirloom carefully down on the bedside table where it belonged. He checked it over slightly and dusted off the cover, even though he had polished it every morning this last week.

  
“What’s your problem? You don’t just fling things out of people’s hands, it bloody scraped me” Jake said indignantly, stuffing his thumb into his mouth for a moment to suckle the small trickle of blood away, from the small scratch the box had made.

  
Virgil glared at him out of the corner of his eye but decided to not engage in another verbal battle with the dark prince. He could have told him to keep his hands to himself and stop stealing what was not rightfully his, but confrontations were not his strongest. Virgil threw off his clothes, throwing them haphazardly on the floor, pulling his pajamas on and finally jumped into his bed, covers pulled up and his back turned toward Jake and the others.

  
The forgotten candy pieces shaken off the pillow, crinkling as some of them fell all the way to the floor.

  
“If you didn’t want us to look at it, you could have just kept it in your suitcase. It’s not like I wouldn’t give it back afterwards.”

  
When no answer came from Virgil, Jake huffed in annoyance.

  
“Whatever, have it your way” he said, “but now I’m not letting you have some of the candy I brought with me from India then, so I’ll take them back.”

  
“Is there more for me then?” Henry, the small dorm mate asked.

  
“No.”

  
Virgil closed his eyes, not caring one bit for the stupid candy. He needed to find a spell for the gift, something that could keep the others’ hands away or… wait a sec.

  
Virgil snatched the box off the table and hurriedly pulled his bag up from the floor and putting the chest down in it, rummaging a bit around to make room for it before slipping the bag carefully down onto the floor again.

  
He laid back on his bed, the covers drawn up to his ears and closed his eyes, finally feeling a small sense of calm.

  
No one would be able to touch it, if he had it with him at all times.

  
He did not think more of the fact that Jake did not come to gather up the candies, as he had told him he would.

 

 

  
The year began as always, steadily going through the motions of students starting off talking about their summer and later about the new amount of homework and the excitement for the quidditch match between Gryffindor and Hufflepuff that was being held the following day.

  
October had sneaked up upon Hogwarts without anything remarkable happening. Virgil had managed to keep his dorm mates away from his heirloom by casting a sticking charm to his bag and even going as far as to do the same to the heirloom, which had giving him the wonderful sight of Jake not being able to let go of his bag, one hand caught on the strap and the other inside the bag holding unto the box itself.

  
Jake had been glowering at Virgil when he finally entered the room, a bright red flush coloring his otherwise pale cheeks and neck. Apparently, he did not want to be seen as the curious thief he was. It had not happened again, and the others had not tried, it seemed that they were scared away from touching his stuff for now.

 

Virgil was sat alone at his spot at the Slytherin table, eating his breakfast in silence, when the owls came in with the daily mail. Virgil usually got a weekly letter from his grandmother, but with her death everything had been silent from the outside world.

Virgil thought about getting an abonnement on the Daily Prophet just to get something, but then he would have to pay money for that and that seemed too pathetic, even for him.

  
Even though nothing came for him, Virgil always loved watching the spectacle the owls gave and the excitement that buzzed from the students when the letters and packages came flying with an alarming speed.

  
A grey, great horned owl came flying in through the grand windows at the ceiling with a big, soft-looking package and what looked to be a newspaper too. It zoomed around the great hall for a bit, seeming rather undecided on where it should land.

  
As the owl took another spin and turned toward the tables once more, it suddenly changed course sharply and went for a landing right in front of Virgil.

  
Virgil threw his arms up in front of him, as the owl landed with a sharp gust of wind and feathers flying everywhere. Before he could think of letting his arms fall to the table, a sharp pinch twinched through his robe and sleeve. Then another, harder one and a screech was called at him.

  
Virgil tried sitting further away from the biting owl, giving it a glare which it seemed to send right back with its red eyes, another screech and grey wings flapping all over the place.

  
“What do you want? You’re not a school owl.”

  
The owl screeched right back at him, scratching its sharp claws into the package it had left unto his uneaten breakfast, and the Daily Prophet that had broken its cord and flopped down into his lap.

  
“It’s not mine! Go away. Shoo” he hissed.

  
The shooing backfired on him, as the owl advanced on him menacingly, its reddish eyes glowering angrily at him and its feathers ruffled.

  
Virgil swore he, in that agonizing second, saw his grandmother on the other side.

  
“Harold stop it!”

  
Suddenly the owl, Harold, screeched loudly, flapping its wings in a ruffle and took off, flying out of the window without circling the room a last time. The Slytherin table was left with feathers all over the food and plates in Virgil’s space.

  
Virgil looked wide eyed up at his savior, his face quickly shutting down in his regular, scowling mask.

  
“I’m sorry about that. Harold never knows who to bring his packages to” huffed Roman as he stood on the other side of the Slytherin table.

  
Virgil’s scowl deepened, and he pushed the big package off his breakfast, porridge smattered all over the bottom of it and his spoon gone from the table.

  
He heard an annoyed sigh before the package was taken of his hands, an indignant noise coming from the older teen as his hand got porridge all over. Roman tried smudging it unto the front of the package instead of on his fingers.

  
“Do you have my newspaper as well Mister Morose?”

  
Virgil almost chucked the offending paper at the blonde’s head, but the title of the front page stood out to him, as he was about to roll it together in a spiteful mass.

  
“Camelot Uncovered! – Merlin’s Return?”

  
“Something interesting in my Daily Prophet, Slithering Hissyfit?”

  
Virgil ignored the name calling, but laid the newspaper down upon the table, quickly opening on the first page, where a big moving picture of archeologists were working on digging out a ruin.

  
“Hey… that’s at Huddersfield, that’s where I’m from” said Roman suddenly, turning the newspaper ninety degrees so that they both could read the article.

  
_The muggles have done it! One of the biggest magical castle grounds in newer magical times have been uncovered by archeologists of the British National Museum, discovering the position of the Fort of Camulodunum near the town of Huddersfield in West Yorkshire, England, and connecting the dots between the Roman fort and the Celtic castle of Camelot._

  
_Muggle History expert and Magical Culture Appreciation member, Jonathan Woodbead, calls this the finding of the millennial and speaks about how this could change how we view the history and politics between the wizarding community and the muggle world._

  
_“Camelot is the very symbol of unity between all humans. In the time of King Arthur Pendragon and Merlin Ambrosius, the union of muggles and magical people were at its greatest, before the battle of Camlann and the fall of Camelot that is. Magic had been outlawed by the father, Uther Pendragon, of the legendary king a generation before, but with the crowning of Arthur and Merlin as his court sorcerer, Camelot stood as the first kingdom where people of both, could live together in harmony” Mr. Woodbead explained._

  
_“With the uncovering of the castle itself, one would have to wonder whether the prophecy of the Once and Future King is less of a myth and more of a true divination prophecy, by one of the unknown druidic seers, history has told us about. It would be rather exciting if we would uncover the truth of the myth and maybe the continuing story of Arthur and Merlin themselves.”_

  
_Other history and mythology experts has been quick in agreeing with Mr. Woodbead, since the uncovering yesterday morning. It seems like we someday could have a prophesized muggle King on our hands. The Ministry of Magic has people on the case and we all await the next news from this fantastical tale._

  
“Merlin’s pants.”

  
Virgil could not help the snort that worked its way through him, at the inappropriate time at using that phrase.

  
Roman looked up from the newspaper with a frown, before his mouth curled in on itself, his eyes crinkling slightly. Virgil covered his mouth until he could seem dark and threatening again.

  
Roman suddenly stood up regally, his back straight, almost rigid, and his head held high as he rolled the newspaper up in a quick motion before walking toward the Gryffindor table again. Leaving Virgil feeling stupid for not scaring him away with his dark, Slytherin persona.

  
As he followed Roman with his eyes, a couple of sixth year Gryffindors came rushing toward the golden prince, each with their own newspaper and started chattering excitedly with each other. One of the goons, Maurice, had slung his arm around Roman’s shoulders, waving his newspaper in front of his face, shortly looking behind them and giving Virgil a scowl, before turning back to their friends.

  
Virgil found that not only was it the Gryffindors that seemed to be flying high on the news. All the tables summed with it, newspapers being rustled in the air and students were walking to talk with students from other tables, mixing the four colors quickly.  
He found Patton having climbed to sit on the table beside the serious, young Ravenclaw, squealing excitedly into the newspaper and the Ravenclaw looking perplexed up at the antics of the Hufflepuff.

  
Virgil pushed his ruined breakfast away and gathered his things quickly, slinging his bag over his shoulder before taking off, out of the roaring Great Hall.

  
He would rather be early to his first class, than be with the whole student body of Hogwarts when they all remembered about the only druid in the school, that perhaps knew a bit more about the whole ordeal and prophecy.

  
Of course, he had heard the whole prophecy through the Tale Time Evenings every Friday with the Order, where stories and myths from their ancestors were being shared to the younger generation and enjoyed by the older. It was never meant for outside ears.

 

 

  
The classes of History of Magic had become much more bearable after professor Sanders started teaching the year before. Of course, it was still rather dry, the subjects the same and you had to focus on and remember every date, every year and every name you read about, because even though the professor was young, a bit younger than thirty, he was still one of the teachers who loved to sneak in quizzes occasionally.

  
You would never know when the mood would hit him.

  
They were meant to be talking about the Goblin revolution of the 1790’s, which was a very dull subject, that had earned Virgil’s doodling skills at first, but now the buzz from the morning news had filled the entire classroom with a sense of excitement that the students had trouble containing.

  
The whispers had become a steady background noise, that had the poor professor coughing now and then, as he tried to drone on about the goblins.

  
Virgil tried to keep the loud whispers, if you could even call them that, from both his Slytherin classmates and the students from Hufflepuff out of his head, so that he could focus on his drawing of a Chinese Fireball dragon. The golden spikes were not fringy enough.

  
He was about to erase the spikes nonverbally, when one of the Hufflepuffs could not be bothered to have her hand be ignored any longer.

  
“Professor, do you know if it’s true?” she asked, her voice annoyingly loud and sugar sweet. “Have they really found Camelot?”

  
At once the whole class fell silent. Everyone looked at the professor with such intensity that it was frightening. Virgil took a careful look at his classmates through his fringe, making sure that no one looked back at him.

  
Professor Sanders coughed slightly and drew his hands across a tired expression, clearly annoyed, before he stood taller and gestured toward the students.

  
“You know what, you’re never going to concentrate as it is. Sure! Let’s talk Camelot, shall we?”

  
The Hufflepuffs cheered loudly.

  
Virgil found the excited face of Patton in the middle of their side of the room, eyes glinting with curiosity and a body that seemed to vibrate.

  
“Alright class; what do you know? What have you heard? Everything from the Daily Prophet this morning?”

  
A couple of hands shot up into the air, both students with yellow and black, and students with green and silver.

  
“Ms. Jackson?”

  
A blonde girl from Hufflepuff squealed before collecting and readying herself for the class’ attention.

  
“We’ve probably all grown up with the tales of the greatest wizard of all times, Merlin!”

  
Virgil cringed at the high notes in her voice, before the professor calmed her down until she was ready to continue.

  
“Sorry, and of course the muggle king of Camelot, Arthur, who was prophesized to be the Once and Future King by the druids.”

  
Virgil could feel eyes on him, but kept his gaze down, doodling while listening.

  
“That’s the basic version, but is it all historical facts or is it all part of a well-developed myth that can never be proven?”

  
The professor strolled around the room, all eyes upon him at all times.

  
“You need to be asking these questions to know that the stories you hear aren’t merely fiction of old” he admonished the class.

  
“We do know for a fact that Merlin existed. It’s been proven by the multiple artifacts and collected books written by Merlin himself, that have been found over the ages and now is being kept at the Ministry itself. There also was a muggle king at the time, and it has been proven through the testaments in Merlin’s books and letters, that he had a certain relationship with this king, but it’s still difficult to determine whether the king was truly king Arthur Pendragon, or if this person is a combination of different British kings throughout the ages.”

  
A hand shot up.

  
“Yes Mr. Wright?”

  
Virgil looked toward the other teenager. Patton had a great grin on his face, his glasses a bit askew upon his freckled, nose bridge.

  
“Is it true that Merlin was a Slytherin?”

  
Hushed boasting went through the Slytherin students, even Virgil could not help the small smirk that threatened to break out upon his lips.

  
After the greatest dark wizard of modern time emerging from the house of snakes, it was good to have something, or in this case someone, that could be used as pride material. Having a legendary warlock as part of one’s house was fantastic.  
The professor suddenly stood still in the middle of the room. His arms across his chest and mischief in his eyes.

  
“That’s actually false.”

  
“WHAT?!”

 

“Oh, do tell me he was a Gryffindor” Henry groaned behind Virgil, Jake snickering at the sarcasm making him almost shed an amused smile himself.

  
The students in the room showed a mix of feelings; from annoyance and disbelief, to surprise and excitement. Patton looked surprised, but with his body halfway across the table he seemed to be ready to learn the true facts of the myth.

  
The teacher chuckled loudly at their reaction before continuing.

  
“The story of him being a Slytherin comes from the colors we associate with him; green being among them, but also purple and white. The reason for this is that the Order of Merlin has been assigned those colors since their creation when the wizarding society of today begun around Merlin’s time” he told them.

  
“The era of Merlin, and the fall of Camelot around the same period, has been documented to have happened around the fifth or sixth century, which means that Merlin lived approximately four to five hundred years before Hogwarts was even build, alas meaning that Merlin never attended Hogwarts in the first place and therefore has never been put into any of the houses.”

  
“Bummer.”

  
“Shut up Henry” Jake choked out lowly on a laugh.

  
People could not help laughing at the antics on the Slytherin side. Virgil tried creeping low in his seat to avoid being looked at, though he glanced back just in time to see his other roommate Zacharia, whack Henry on the arm while Jake tried looking serious next to them, his face pinched and jaw working as he fought off his snorts.

  
Virgil looked away, covering his mouth and tried smoothing out his own features.

  
Even Professor Sanders chuckled a bit, before giving another mischievous smile to the whole class.

  
“As the only one who has taken a liking to the history of Old Magic in this room, and because of that, actually read some of Merlin’s texts, I would rather peck him as a Hufflepuff… like myself.”

  
The Slytherins started objecting to that outrageous claim, while the Hufflepuffs tried defending it with huge smiles on their faces.

  
Virgil looked around the room with a smirk. He watched as Patton started laughing uncontrollable at the whole spectacle, almost falling off his chair in the process. As Virgil turned to look at his dorm mates, he was met with a cool smirk from the frost blue eyes behind him. His face finally having gone back to his neutral look.

  
Jake raised his hand, waiting for the room to quiet down before the professor let him speak.

  
Another look with a dangerous glint was send Virgil’s way before he spoke to the whole room.

  
“I don’t have a question professor, but the Daily Prophet wrote about the prophecy of King Arthur and that it was made by druidic seers. I was just wondering if maybe Virgil could tell us about it, now that he is a druid” he said, then he turned to Virgil with an innocent face, “What is a druid anyway? What is the difference? Isn’t it more like a cult?”

  
Virgil paled as he turned away from Jake and toward the class that waited for him. The professor nodded encouragingly at him, awaiting more knowledge as well.

  
Jake probably loved the payback for the sticking charm. The bastard.

  
When Virgil only looked down at his fidgeting hands, the good professor began answering the questions for him instead. Virgil looked through his fringe to see him still trying to get Virgil to participate, while telling the class about the druidic society.

  
“The druidic orders are not, as you put it, cults for people to disappear into” he started, “the best comparison could be of the indigenous Americans and the different tribes in the muggle world. We do not have reserves for druids since they in older times were a nomadic people, but they have later settled down in three different places in Great Britain. But druidic orders, or communities, are found all over the world, though in small settlements, since they faced a massive genocide around the late fourth and fifth century and later being part of the victims during the Witch Hunting Trials between the 15th and 18th centuries.”

  
At this, the professor looked questioningly at Virgil as if asking for permission. When Virgil only looked back, making sure he could not see the rest of the class, professor Sanders resumed his lecture.

  
“There is of course a difference between the druidic communities and the wizarding society, but the magic of our society comes from the Old Magic, which is what the druids’ possess. When we talk about pureblood wizards, we talk about a bloodline that can be tracked straight back to the druids but are families who no longer are part of the Orders and probably haven’t been for centuries. I would make an educated guess, that after the druidic genocides, some of the families went into hiding and chose to convert to other cultures and religions, to forget about their druidic heritage.”

  
A hand from the Hufflepuff group came up. The professor nodded to the boy that sat next to Patton.

  
“So… I’m a pureblood. Does that mean that I have Old Magic, and what is it?”

  
Virgil snorted and shook his head, making people turn toward him.

  
“Would you like to answer that question Mr. Morgan?”

  
Virgil fidgeted in his seat and inwardly cursed himself for making him stand out even more than he already had been. There was silence in the room. A silence that stretched on, until Virgil could not handle the pressure of the looming embarrassment from not answering the teacher.

  
He bit his lower lip and cleared his throat, before looking down at the table and starting to speak. Ripping off the band-aid.

  
“It doesn’t matter if you’re a pureblood or a half-blood or even a Muggleborn in regards of Old Magic.” He started. “It’s a different kind than what is used today… I don’t know how to explain it, the magic you use today is a watered-down version? Old Magic is… no-not harvested, but that’s the closest I can explain it. It’s ‘harvested’ from nature and ancestry through specific traditions that’s only known to the Orders. It’s a wild kind of power that’s more about soul work than body, which is what your magic is about.”

  
Silence.

  
Virgil looked up at his classmates. Everyone looked confused and looking to each other to see if anyone comprehended what he was talking about.

  
“So… if it’s watered down… does that mean that druids are more powerful than regular wizards and witches?” asked the Hufflepuff. Patton sitting next to him with a confused smile but nodded encouragingly at Virgil.

  
“Ehm… No? I think it’s just different?” Virgil tried coming up with a better answer, but the huffs from Jake behind him made it really difficult. A thought finally came to him and he took his wand out from his pocket, waving it a bit in front of himself. Virgil looked back at Patton and took a deep breath, keeping his eyes on him.

  
“An example could be the wand. For you, the wand is like a concentrator that your magic goes through to keep it on the straight and narrow. For me… it feels more like my magic is wrapped up in cotton. Like with your hearing, if you put cotton in your ears it dampens it down, making it harder to hear. I can use my magic just fine, but it feels weird and… Tame.”

  
“Well you make it sound like I’m sharing room with some kind of a magical weirdo, you’re not going to explode the room if you stop using your wand, right?” the blonde Slytherin smiled teasingly, tickling his neck with the feathered end of his quill.  
“Mr. McLoughlin!”

  
Jake snorted behind Virgil, the quill disappearing, as he felt himself go red. He quickly looked down and did not manage to see the stink eye Patton was sending, just above his shoulder to the Slytherins in the back. Virgil took up his pencil and looked down at his drawing, quickly vanishing the golden fringe with a small burst of magic.

  
As he began drawing again he thought of how at least they had forgotten to ask about the prophecy and that he had managed to evade any further questions he would not be able to or want to answer about the Order and his heritage.

  
The sugar sweet girly voice spoke up again.

  
“So, about the prophecy…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Playlist for The Crest of Merlin - a song for each chapter:
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=x6wMinZPiHo&list=PLFZqzIR8tuAzMAnwsIAYEgwGUyDR-ILG9


	3. Chapter 3

The library was quiet in the time right after classes. Virgil thanked the gods for a rare day of sunshine, which made the student body reach for the outdoors, before the cold would take its final leap and winter time would take over.

  
Virgil leaned his chin upon the table, his arms outstretched in front of him and his hands tinkering with the wooden box he had pulled from his bag.

  
The polished wood seemed as good as new, only with a few scratches on the surface and faded colors of the flowery patterns, coming from age.

  
He had tried all the different unlocking charms he could think of but had now had to resort to the books in the library instead. Some of the ones he had found, had charms that were way out of his league and he had quickly given up for now, letting himself take a break that at this point had turned into about half an hour.

  
Virgil sighed and faceplanted unto the table, knocking his forehead on the wood.

  
“Pardon, is this seat taken?” a low voice asked, a Scottish accent clear in the words.

  
Virgil lifted his head and sat up straighter in his seat, pulling himself off the table as he saw the younger Ravenclaw he had seen at all the meal times suddenly standing on the other side of the table, adjusting his glasses slightly and four huge books in his arms.

  
“Yea sure, there’s no one else here.”

  
The dark-haired boy sat down in front of him, laying the books carefully on the table and flopping one of them open. With a lowly murmured spell, parchment and a white quill together with a bottle of ink, came soaring out of the newcomer’s bag, landing gently next to the open book.

  
They sat in silence for a bit. Virgil playing around with the trinket, while watching the Ravenclaw every once in a while, through his fringe.

  
The boy sat stock still, only moving when turning a page. Sometimes a wrinkle appeared on his forehead and he murmured the words silently, his dark brown eyes racing across the lines in a spectacular speed.

  
He wondered at first how it could be that this boy would rather be inside, than out in the sunny warmth of the autumn. He concluded quickly that this Ravenclaw definitely had to be a bookworm, and a nerdish type, with how immaculate his clothing appeared and how everything on the table seemed to have their rightful place. There was never a wrong drop of ink on the table or the parchment, and the quill was always laid in the same place and adjusted if it laid incorrectly.

  
Virgil then started spiraling. What if he had sat at this table just to get to Virgil? There were other tables, and they were the only two in the library, except for the librarian of course. He winced slightly, a headache starting to appear.

  
Virgil was in the middle of coming up with excuses to leave, when the Ravenclaw suddenly sat up straight, adjusted his tie and looked at him with serious eyes.

  
“Am I making you uncomfortable? I can go sit somewhere else if that will satisfy you.”

  
“No, it’s fine! I was about to leave myself…”

  
The Ravenclaw lifted an eyebrow at that, looking very sceptic. Virgil sighed and slumped back in his seat, rolling the box around in his hands absentmindedly.

  
The Ravenclaw huffed and closed his book reverently.

  
“I assume that you were hiding from the rest of the student body. I myself, often use the library as a mean of escape from the more extroverted places of the school. Most of the time I would love nothing more than to throttle some of them for their illogical opinions and use of bad grammar.”

  
“I’ve noticed” Virgil snorted before he could stop himself.

  
He looked up with wide eyes and found the Ravenclaw smirking back at him.

  
“I’ve noticed that too” the glass wearing boy said and outstretched a hand for him to take.

  
“My name is Logan Montgomery.”

  
They shook hands, Virgil hoping his hand was not too clammy.

  
“Virgil Morgan.”

  
Logan nodded.

  
“I know who you are, people sometimes talk about ‘the druid’ but even more so today” he said, adjusting his glasses. “Frankly that was why I came to the library for the second time today. I find that they cannot stop their incessant talking about Camelot and it frustrates me with all the different tales that goes around today. Has nobody read the biography by Geoffrey of Monmouth? Or perhaps Le Morte D’ Arthur by Sir Thomas Malory?”

 

“Well…” Virgil started but after a while gave up and laid the wooden box gently down upon the table, right in front of him. Logan’s eyebrow rose once again.

  
“You have not read any of them either, have you?” he drawled.

  
Virgil shook his head.

  
“Not really no. It hasn’t really crossed my mind since I’ve already heard the prophecy and stories so many times they’re not even that interesting anymore.” He shrugged and sat back in his seat, looking up at Logan whose eyes seemed to twinkle with curiosity.

  
“I must say I’m as curious as the rest about the prophecy” Virgil stiffened at that and Logan’s hands came up in a placating manner. “Not that I’m going to ask of course, I understand that I don’t have any right to your people’s tales. But can I ask you a question?”

  
Virgil sighed and shrugged again, he knew that there was no escaping today, even though it was frustrating at least he could get to choose who he talked to about it all.

  
“Go ahead.”

  
“The ‘prophecy’ that has been kept throughout the ages, about how King Arthur will rise again when the world is in need… is it true? I know that you cannot share it all, but are we even close at this point to the real prophecy from the druids?”

  
Logan had moved further unto the table, his arms crossed in front of him and his expression serious in the face of new knowledge. Virgil looked to the ceiling, thinking about whether he should tell him or not. It would not hurt saying yes or no and technically he was not a part of the druidic community any longer, so technically he was not even seen as a half druid by the people he had grown up with. Did that mean than he could tell it all? Just to spite them? But to Virgil it also felt ethically wrong and something did not feel right about sharing.

  
Virgil looked down again and started shifting the trinket on the table around, as he answered Logan’s question.

  
“Yes and no. It’s of course not the same and some of the points are so ridiculously way off it’s laughable, but parts of the story you’re telling are right.”

  
“And you are not going to say which parts?”

  
Virgil smirked up at Logan, their eyes meeting across the table.

  
“Other than the fact that it’s prophesized that the King will rise again, my lips are sealed shut with Old Magic.” Virgil locked his lips and tossed an imaginary key over his shoulder, snorting to himself.

  
Logan was about to retort, when a loud exclamation broke their little battle of wits.

  
“There you are, I’ve been looking all over for you Virge! And Logan is here too?! Oh, my goodness!” Patton practically ran toward their table, his footsteps thumping loudly unto the wooden floors.

  
The two of them sat up straighter and shared a look, before looking back at Patton who slumped down on the chair between them, clearly out of breath.

  
“I was… looking… goodness me!... Virgil! Are you okay? Jake was… Puh! He was not very nice in class and- Oh, what’s this?”

  
Patton reached out quickly and took the box from Virgil, before he could think to react. He looked at the Hufflepuff as he turned it around and looked at the initials and flowers with curiosity.

  
Logan was watching as well, looking from the teen to the trinket and back.

  
“It’s very pretty! Where did you get it?” Patton asked cheerily as he tried giving it back to Virgil, his smile faltering into a frown when he found that it would not release his hands, even as he tried shaking it gently from his palms.

  
“Ah, a sticking charm. To make sure that no one can take it I assume?”

  
Patton frowned at Logan, still shaking his hands. Virgil smirked, before reaching out and making it drop down into his own hands with a small surge of magic.

  
“Yea, Jake has a problem with figuring out which things aren’t his” Virgil told them, twirling it in between his fingers, making whatever was inside rustle around.

  
Logan and Patton watched the trinket fly in between his hands lazily. Patton seemed fascinated and Logan had a calculating look on his face.

  
“Where’s it from? It looks homemade” asked Patton.

  
Virgil bit his lip but shrugged to himself, deciding to share a bit about himself.

  
“I got it from my grandmother this summer” he told them and caught it smoothly, shaking it. “there’s something inside, but I don’t know what since I can’t get the bloody thing open!”

  
Logan’s brow furrowed, and he started reaching out, but stopped himself and looked up at Virgil.

  
“May I?”

  
Virgil made a gesture as if to say ‘go ahead’ making Logan take the trinket from the table to look closer at it and probably also to get a feeling of the spells placed on it. Patton sat smiling proudly at the Ravenclaw, his grin big and carefree.  
“I cannot say what locking spell there has been used” Logan mumbled, stroking the wood slowly and looking even closer at all sides.

  
“Well, me neither buddy” Virgil said.

  
Logan looked up shortly, before returning his gaze to the trinket in his hands.

  
“If you will let me, I would like to further investigate this locking charm, I would have to keep this at the same time of course, but I promise that I will take good care of it, and we can keep the sticking charm on it. It is quite fascinating actually, it is as if the charm has been placed all around the surface instead of in the keyhole.”

  
Patton stretched to the side to look from Logan’s perspective. Logan seemed very smart and if Virgil could not figure out the spell himself, then another set of eyes seemed like a bright idea. He was not sure about letting Logan borrow it though. He was very protective of his things and he never borrowed stuff out any more, since when he had done it he had never gotten them back, and this was a special heirloom. Could he really part with it?

  
Virgil watched as Logan tried explaining how the spell seemed to work, to Patton who smiled though he still seemed confused.

  
Logan seemed nice, but he did not know him.

  
Patton liked him though and he was also nice and had not done anything wrong against Virgil. While he would not call them friends and he did not trust him completely, Patton was probably the one that he was closest to, now that his family was gone.  
Virgil cleared his throat to get their attention. The both of them looked up expectantly.

  
“If you keep the charm on and keep it in your bag when you’re not working on breaking the spell, then you can borrow it.”

 

 

  
The hallway was quiet as Virgil walked down it, wanting to leave his things in his room before going to dinner. He had, had a nice time with Patton and Logan, they both seemed friendly enough at the moment, though Virgil still was not quite sure if he should have given the box to the scot. He would have to keep an eye on him. See if he suddenly tries to avoid him.

  
He turned a corner, almost wanting to turn right back again when he saw them. He imagined to himself that he maybe had forgotten something at the library and whoops ‘I have to go back now, shit’ but it was too late.

  
“Hey druid boy! Guess what? We have some things about Diagon Alley to discuss!” yelled Maurice, marching toward him with Freddy and Roman by his side, he and Roman being the ones wearing their quidditch uniforms fetchingly.

  
“Don’t have time! Have to go, tick tock on the clock, dinner won’t wait you know?” he rushed out, going for the left in high speed while avoiding their looks.

  
He had almost passed them when his bag was yanked off his shoulder and thrown to the floor. He looked scathingly up at them. His breathing was quickening. Keep the front. Keep the front. Keep the front.

  
“If you ever go for Roman like that again, I swear to Merlin you’ll pay big time, and we are not just talking Bat Bogey Hexes. Are we clear?”

  
Maurice was towering over him. His green eyes flashing and his whole posture speaking of dominance you would not want to cross.

Virgil looked to the others, standing a few steps further down the hall toward the Gryffindor Tower. Freddy was yawning and looking out a window, while Roman was watching the two of them with a guarded expression.

  
Maurice grabbed his chin harshly, turning his head toward himself and squeezing Virgil’s jaw till it hurt. He managed to see Roman take a step toward them before stopping himself again, looking away from the two and turning to Freddy instead.

  
Virgil turned his gaze to Maurice, seeing a disgusted sneer on his face.

  
“I said. Are. We. Clear?”

  
Virgil began nodding, then stopped when Maurice put more pressure on his jaw.

  
“Yes” he breathed out through his teeth.

  
Maurice smirked and pushed Virgil away by the jaw, making him stumble backward over his feet and almost tumble to the ground.

  
When he turned back, the three Gryffindors already had their backs turned, walking away from him. He could clearly hear the laughter of Maurice and how he made fun of how Virgil apparently had covered before him.  
None of them glanced back.

  
Virgil grabbed his bag quickly and strode down the hall with what little pride he had left.

 

 

  
A hum of excitement ran throughout the school, even though the Saturday had started out with dark, brooding clouds and a thick rain cover, that fell from the sky in straight lines. The house chants had started early at breakfast, where some of the Quidditch players from both Gryffindor and Hufflepuff had stood on their tables and chanted against each other, with Roman being the loudest, standing proud in his red and gold quidditch uniform, until professor Flitwick had levitated them down unto their seats and threatened to give them all detention, in a very mild manner.

  
The players had not stood again, but some of them kept eyeing and grimacing at each other. Virgil watched as the Gryffindor team huddled together at their table nearest the entrance, where they sat and pushed each other and seemed all manly, manly. Roman laughed his throw-your-head-back-and-laugh-loudly laugh, his blonde hair looking dull in the lighting, but his laughter made him shine.

  
Roman said something to Maurice who laughed back at him, before he looked back to the team captain in front of him. His brow furrowing slightly, when his eyes turned and caught Virgil’s gaze directly.

  
His heart skipped a beat.

  
Roman’s laugh had disappeared and what was left was a still furrowed brow and downturned lips. Eyes too serious to belong to one coming from the loud and boastful house.

  
Virgil looked away, pushing his breakfast back and forward. He was not really hungry. Another night with restlessness and nightmares of finding his grandmothers’ corpse had kept him awake most of the time and he was exhausted.

  
Fetch had begun spending her nights next to his pillow, probably sensing the negativity that captured him when he was asleep and had no means of distraction. It was a small relief to hear her purrs when he woke up in cold sweat, tear tracks on his cheeks and a scream he had to keep hidden in his throat. She was the only one who saw his tears, dragging her face down them, making cat hair cling to his skin and annoy his nose.

  
The dark circles he always had, looked more like bruises underneath his eyes, purple mixing with the dark grey shadows of his fatigue and grief.

  
Virgil looked up from his arms, he had not noticed that he had laid upon the table. He cleared his throat and scratched an eye and looked toward the door, where the teams were disappearing through. Soon the whole school would venture down toward the pitch in the rain and watch the first match of the year.

  
Virgil stretched and stood. Perhaps he could manage a couple of hours, now that he would be alone in the dorm since his dorm mates wanted to see Hufflepuff destroy Gryffindor with their new seeker. Virgil had thought that it was unlikely since Roman was the seeker of the Gryffindor team and he was known as the star of the pitch.

  
He shook his head and began to walk away from his spot by the wall. Stupid Roman and stupid popularity factor, how many titles could one person have?

  
Virgil jumped almost a foot in the air, when a hand suddenly took his and pulled him hurriedly out of the great hall, turning toward the entrance.

  
“We have to be quick to get the best spots! The Hufflepuffs are moving soon, and we don’t want to get trampled” Patton laughed over his shoulder at Virgil, eyeing him up and down, his smile faltering for second when he zeroed in on the skin beneath Virgil’s eyes, before turning back on.

  
He probably had a look of shock upon his face, before his brain finally started up again. There were painted badgers on Patton’s cheeks.

  
“Wait! We’re going to get drenched and sick!”

  
“I got a spell for that, do not worry Virgil” said Logan matter-of-factly, as he strode, with a shoulder bag filled with books, alongside the pair, his wand already out and ready for the incantation.  
But the moment they stepped out of the entrance hall and unto the courtyard, the heavy rain suddenly stopped.

  
Patton let go of his hand and stood looking toward the sky confused with Logan doing the same next to him.

  
It was like a big invisible umbrella had been pulled out over their heads, as the rain still fell from the sky, but was moving out of the way as if they were surrounded by a dome, big enough for the three of them to move comfortably next to each other on the inside.

  
Virgil saw Logan look down at his wand, his brow furrowed.

  
“Remarkable.”

  
“Did you do it kiddo?”

  
Logan shook his head, before looking back up and around the dome. Suddenly he started moving away from them, going as far as to the border of the dome, stretching his hand out through and into the rain, his hand getting wet in seconds.  
He looked back toward Virgil, their eyes meeting briefly before Logan nodded to himself.

  
“Let’s keep moving. I can see the Hufflepuffs are coming in behind us.”

  
Virgil and Patton looked back to the sight of what looked to be the whole of the Hufflepuff house moving briskly toward them.

  
“Oh, my goodness!”

 

 

  
The players were soaked as they flew across the pitch. Their uniforms were latching onto their skin and their dripping hair was flowing with drops of water at the speed they were flying. All of them were wearing goggles to be able to watch the game without getting hit by the rain that must have felt like hail.

  
They were sitting on the front row amidst the screaming Hufflepuffs, cheering for their team as they scored another ten points with the quaffle, down at the other end of the pitch where the Gryffindor hoops were positioned.

  
The wind had picked up and an umbrella came flying by them, almost taking down one of the Hufflepuff beaters who happened to fly close by their part of the tribune.

  
Virgil’s anti-water dome still worked, sending the water flying toward the students by their sides, but the cold wind took a hold on their clothing, making Virgil wish that he had, had time to pick up his coat from his room.

  
Patton was yelling and screaming, throwing his black and yellow scarf into the air at every chance he got, whether it was when the team won a point or when a player zoomed past. It did not seem to matter if it was a Hufflepuff or a Gryffindor player either.  
Even though Virgil was still exhausted and missed the silence greatly, he could not help the adrenaline that had started pumping in his veins and his heartrate beating in time with the enthusiasm of the crowd. It made him stand closer to the fence instead of sitting on the bench, where he had seen Logan had chosen to be sitting behind them, a book open in his lap and the wooden box out in his hand.

  
“Did you see that?! Did you see that?! They almost scored another! We are almost wining!”

  
Patton had grabbed unto his arm, shaking it up and down as he jumped on the spot, yelling loudly in his ear. Virgil tried to clear his hearing once Patton stopped pulling at him and went for Logan, who did not even look up when he was addressed.

  
“We are wining Logan!”

  
He turned a couple of pages, keeping a stoic expression on his book.

  
“It’s 130 to 50 Patton, it can still depend on who is catching the snitch.”

  
“Oh darn” said Patton, still with a huge smile on his face as he turned toward the game again.

  
Virgil looked away from the happy bouncy-ball beside him, just in time to see a flash of gold somewhere in front of him. It was gone in a second, but he was sure that it had been the snitch. With the excitement of the crowd behind him and the players ambitions in front and above, he zoned out of the game to try and find a flash of gold again.

  
He faintly heard the commentator yell about two scores to Hufflepuff and one for Gryffindor, the yelling and chanting of the crowd a mere background noise as he searched through the rain. His heart beat faster and his brow furrowed in concentration. Players zoomed past him, and someone got hit with a bludger.

  
The seekers were flying above them, circling the Hufflepuff’s part of the pitch, where they had last seen the snitch.

  
In one swift move, the tiny winged ball flew up from the ground and stopped right in front of Virgil’s face, drifting lazily with the bursts of wind as if in a trance. He could see the details of the ball, the lines that should look like the lines of a feather on the small wings moving as fast as a hummingbird.

  
Out of his peripheral vision he could see Patton lean slowly forward, looking at the ball with big eyes. His body trembling and his mouth opening gradually before a strangled grunt sounded and he screamed louder than ever in a high-pitched voice.

  
“THE GOLDEN SNITCH!”

  
It all happened so fast.

  
One moment the snitch was the only thing in front of Virgil’s face and next both seekers were swooping down from above like hawks going for their kill. Roman in the front, his arm already outstretched, ready to catch the unmoving snitch.  
Virgil did not have time for thought. The moment Roman looked to be ready to crash into him, eyes filled with concentration behind the goggles and golden hair plastered to his face, Virgil reacted.

  
His arms flew up and in front of him, destroying the dome that had kept them dry in the process. It felt as if a vacuum built up inside of him and suddenly snap with a force that pushed the Hufflepuff seeker upwards and everyone around him on the tribune down and around the benches with surprised yelps. The brunt hit Roman right in front of him.

  
Virgil knew the second it happened, that he had done something awfully bad. He caught Roman’s eye and saw the surprise build in them the moment the force hit him and pushed him away and off his broom. The surprise turned to fear the moment he lost his grip, grabbing out toward it and failing.

  
There was a collective gasp of horror throughout the pitch, as everyone followed the Golden Prince on his way down toward the ground.

  
In a split-second decision, Virgil threw himself forward, hanging halfway over the ledge his arm outstretched toward the teen he had pushed through the air and who was now falling around 70 feet.

  
Roman was falling gracefully. His back toward the ground, his mouth open in a silent scream and his eyes on Virgil, watching him in horror.

  
With a more concentrated burst of power, Virgil clenched his fist hard and flexed his arm, pulling upwards and with that, stopped Roman from hitting the ground just in time, holding him in place mere inches above the puddles on the muddy pitch.

  
Someone was pulling at his waist, making sure that he did not fall over the front of the tribune, with the weight of the prince hanging in one arm. Roman was looking up at him with shocked eyes bigger than he had ever seen before. Virgil could feel the rain falling from his wet hair, down both his neck, into his shirt and down his bangs, and into his eyes.

  
With a great grunt, he flexed his arm downwards shakily, gently laying the prince on the ground before letting go with his magic. Roman did not even flinch when he was placed, star-fished, in the middle of a big batch of mud, only looking up at the tribune toward the Slytherin.

  
They stared at each other, both shocked pale and wide eyed. Unmoving.

  
Suddenly all air left him as he was pulled harshly back and down unto a bench. The worried face of Patton was screaming something at him, but he could not comprehend what was being said. Logan stood looking over Patton’s shoulder, snapping his finger in front of Virgil’s face, trying to get some kind of response.

  
People were all around him. Talking. Whispering to each other. Watching him.

  
Virgil stood shakily and pushed Patton away from him. Someone tried to grab him when he began pushing through the crowd, moving toward the stairs, but he shook the hands of harshly and kept going, walking as fast as he could, almost tumbling down the steps until he met solid ground.

  
His head was about to explode, he was sure of it.

  
Virgil scrambled up the muddy grounds, working his way frantically toward the castle. Away from all the noise and all the eyes. His heart was beating and his chest heaving. His vision blurring.  
What had he done? What was that? He could have killed him. He almost did! What did he do?

  
“Wait!”

  
Virgil startled, looking back with huge eyes while still walking briskly away from the pitch.

  
Roman was running toward him in all his muddy glory, wet robes flying impressively behind him, even though the wind came from the side, bringing in cloudbursts of water. Virgil turned around again, running away from what he was sure would be a screaming match. He had almost killed him.

  
His eyes burned.

  
A hand came down on his shoulder, turning him around sharply. Virgil looked at the ground, quickly trying to dry away the falling tear with a soaked sleeve.

  
“I asked you to wait. Jeez.”

  
Roman stood close, he covered most of the wind and rain with his taller and more muscular build, that would make most male teens jealous. He radiated heat like a furnace and frankly smelled like old dirt, sweat and rain. Virgil looked up to meet the Gryffindor’s face. His goggles were gone, his wet hair slicked back from his face and his mouth opening and closing, working on saying something comprehensible, his brow furrowed.

  
“You… rescued me.”

  
Virgil clenched his teeth together, looking wide eyed at the taller guy. Did he not see what happened? He could have died! Or broken his spine! Or died! Virgil had almost killed him! This was not happening. It could not truly be happening.  
Virgil pushed back his fringe, glancing away from the prince.

  
“Yea well…I was also the one who pushed you off.”

  
With that, Virgil was not proud to admit it, he fled the scene. Running to the castles warm halls and the darkness of his dorm. Leaving Roman behind in the drizzling rain and the heavier wind.

  
A golden light flashed above the astronomy tower.

  
Rumbling thunder following close behind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Playlist for The Crest of Merlin - a song for each chapter:
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=x6wMinZPiHo&list=PLFZqzIR8tuAzMAnwsIAYEgwGUyDR-ILG9


	4. Chapter 4

The first quidditch match of the year was won by Hufflepuff.

  
Virgil kept hearing about the unfairness of the last minute, since Roman decided to take off after his fall from his Thunderbolt VII broom, and the seeker from the black and yellow team had seen a glint from the unmoving snitch in the mud. He had picked it up, one of its wings broken, and had won the match with 300 to 60. A gigantic loss to the team of the lions.

  
He had also heard the gossip about the weird way Roman had fallen. He had always been steady on a broom, seeming even more at ease in the air than on the ground, people talking about a natural born seeker like the famous Harry Potter was. Some people had spoken about how they had seen the druid almost hanging off the rail and then running away as if it was a crime scene.

  
Needless to say, Virgil had kept low the last week.

  
Both Patton and Logan had tried asking about what happened, but Virgil did not answer, instead doodling on pieces of parchment that was meant for either his essay on transformative transfiguration or questions on how to care for a herd of unicorns.  
They had begun using the little corner in the library as a neutral meeting place, where they did homework together and talked about this and that. Virgil listened, but did not engage very often, still caught in his own mind, afraid that they would look at him with as much contempt as he felt toward himself, if they knew what he had done at the quidditch match.

  
Right after the match, Virgil had run directly to the bathroom in his dorm, throwing himself to the tiled floor, ripping up the lid from the toilet and retched into the bowl. Tears had been streaming down his face, his body shaking all over. It could have been from the sheer exhaustion, the cold, drowned clothing he still wore or the fact that he had almost killed someone!

  
He had almost killed him.

  
His breathing had increased tenfold, becoming irregular and uneven, as he kept puking, sniffling and sobbing harshly for what felt like hours, alone in the dorm of the dungeon.

  
It had neither helped the already horrible week, when it seemed that Roman was chasing him all over the castle. From coming over to the Slytherin table and being booed away by Jake and the others when he tried to talk to Virgil, to suddenly having appeared beside him on a bench in the courtyard one evening when all he wanted to do was sit and brood alone.

  
Their shoulders had brushed together, when he had sat down. His hands in his lap and his face turned to Virgil’s reddening face.

  
“Why are you sitting out here? Aren’t you cold?”

  
“Cut the crap Princey and leave me alone.”

  
Roman had made some indignant noises, when Virgil had walked away briskly, angered by the fact that he had to find another place where he could be left in peace.

  
It was Sunday evening. A bit over a week after the incident and Virgil was sat staring out into the darkness from his regular seat in the library, Logan was sitting opposite of him, once again with the trinket in his hands, having already finished his homework for the next week.

  
Virgil leaned his head upon the windowsill, exhaling a long sigh. Logan looked up shortly but then resumed with his work. That was what he liked about him. Logan was there as much as Patton was, if not more, but he knew when Virgil needed the quiet. When he needed to be alone, but did not want to be lonely, Logan would be there, ready to talk if necessary or just to be a calming present in the background.

  
It was not as if Patton was not great, Virgil liked him more each time they talked and maybe he would even say they could be friends. Patton was a light source but sometimes he shone too bright and Virgil needed time to recharge until he was ready for another round. He hoped they did not find him weird.

  
Virgil sighed again.

  
“Patton should be here shortly. The choir practice would have ended five minutes ago if I remember the schedule correctly, and I do.”

  
Virgil shifted his gaze toward the glasses wearing teen, thankful for the diversion from his own mind. He looked up at the clock near the ceiling. It was five minutes past eight. They had been sitting here since supper, a couple of hours ago.

  
Virgil stretched, making his back and wrists pop, Logan gave him a disapproving look, almost ready to start his rant about how bad it was for his joints again.

  
He smirked slowly at the Scot, hiding a grin when Logan shook his head at him and put the wooden box down, looking very exasperated at it.

  
“I do not understand this spell at all, it is very complex and seems more as if it is made up of different kinds of locking charms and not just one” he huffed, sitting back in his chair with his arms crossed in front of him.

  
Virgil took the trinket back carefully, looking it over.

  
It seemed the same. Even though Logan had been working on this project for almost two weeks now, he had not even managed a simple dent in the spell to make it crack more easily in the end. The magic was still thrumming lively.  
“I can’t help you there, I’ve already tried everything I could think of,” Virgil said, laying it down at the middle of the table.

  
“Perhaps we should try and inquire professor Flitwick about it. Surely he would be able to identify it.”

  
Virgil hummed softly, not really wanting to give an answer before thinking it through.

  
Patton’s laugh could be heard through the rows of bookshelves, answering someone with a joke of his own, and a boisterous laughter being heard in return.

  
Virgil froze. You have got to be kidding!

  
Logan huffed, annoyance clear on his face, when the two extroverts came bouncing around the corner on their way to their little secluded piece of silence. Virgil felt a warmth spread throughout his body. This was supposed to be their space, why did Patton think that he could just show it to people? Especially to Roman. Virgil could not even look him in the eye, instead choosing to look out the window again. Brooding.

  
“Hi kiddoes! I brought Roman! We’re in the choir together, or I am. With Kermit, but he was a bit under the weather today, so I didn’t bring him. But Roman is going to accompany with his violin for Halloween! Which by the way kiddo, you were really great!”  
“Thank you, Patton” said Roman as the two of them sat down, Patton next to Logan and Roman next to Virgil, putting his violin case carefully on the floor next to his chair.

  
Virgil shifted a bit in his seat, when he felt the heat from the furnace next to him. He felt eyes on him for a moment, though he ignored it completely and watched his own reflection in the dark window with interest. He also saw Roman look away from him to say hello to Logan instead, receiving a small polite hello, then nothing.

  
Patton and Roman seemed to share a look, Patton looking perplexed before smiling again, reaching for the trinket on the table.

  
“Have you guys had a breakthrough yet?”

 

“No.” answered Logan shortly.

  
“What’s this?” asked Roman, pointing to it.

  
“That’s Virgil’s.” Logan answered, his head bowed over the homework he had already done.

  
“Seems a bit fanciful for a Slithering Slytherin don’t you think?” asked Roman, tapping Virgil in his side with an elbow, a big grin on his face.

  
“Don’t you have anything better to do than follow me around?” Virgil grumbled, still watching their reflections.

  
He watched as Roman grimaced, his smile straining before quickly gaining his composure again, turning toward the others with confident body language and his head held high with a pretty smile on his face.

  
“Are we all ready for Halloween then? Do your houses have some special traditions as well?”

  
Avoidance of answering awkward questions. Good call. Virgil rolled his eyes, leaning his chin upon his arms on the windowsill.

  
“Of course, we’re ready! I’m excited for the pumpkin pies, they’re so good! Oh! And my dorm has this tradition of going to the kitchen to talk to the house elves, they’re really polite! And they give us an extra cookie, sometimes two or we sneak some cookie dough instead” said Patton. “I love cookies.”

  
“Patton, Raw dough of cookies are more susceptible to bacterial infection and cookies made out of such infected dough may cause food poisoning. It is very unhealthy to be eating unbaked dough” Logan reprimanded, closing his book sharply choosing to engage in the conversation.

  
“Oh, don’t be such a worrywart Smarty-pants! As long as it’s not often he does it I’m sure it’s fine” Roman said with a smile.

  
“I am sorry, Smarty-pants?”

  
“So, Logan! What are the Ravenclaws doing to celebrate?” Patton interjected before anything could break out.

  
Logan sighed through clenched teeth and adjusted his glasses, composing himself.

  
“We have a campaign each year where the whole tower re-creates a horror story. I believe this year it is the Russian Sleep Experiment.”

  
“Ooh, sounds spooky.”

  
“Yes well,” Logan adjusted his tie. “I do not believe I will participate this year, it was quite enough the last three and furthermore it makes no logical sense to be pushing such nonsense on yourself.”

  
“I think it sounds fantastic! As Gryffindors we challenge each other to the scariest dares of the year, everyone tries to outdo each other and some, like myself, sometimes use a whole year to come up with the scariest and most original dares in Gryffindor history!”

  
Logan rolled his eyes, Patton almost bubbling next to him.

  
Virgil watched as Roman turned toward him once again, this time managing to catch his gaze in the window.

  
“Are the Slytherins up to something spooky on All Hallows Eve?” he asked, again a note of tense humor in his voice. Virgil shrugged his shoulders.

  
“I wouldn’t know, I don’t celebrate Halloween.”

  
“What?!”

  
The prince looked quite scandalized at him, the others watching him as well. Virgil sighed sharply and turned around, his eyes having to adjust to the lighting in the room after having looked at the darkened glass for so long. He furrowed his brow as he looked at Roman with a small defensive sneer.

  
“Not all of us has the same traditions as you Princey, I don’t celebrate Halloween because it’s a cheap knockoff of a religious tradition for my people” he shifted in his seat, looking at a bookcase instead.

  
Roman straightened in his seat, looking a bit affronted at the accusation.

  
“Well, whatever do your people celebrate then? Calling on the ghosts with your special magic to make them attack normal people?” he asked loudly, annoyance clear in his voice. Virgil gritted his teeth together, tired of the sheer arrogance, before looking scornfully back at the blonde, talking to him in a belittling voice.

  
“I celebrate Samhain on the same night as Halloween. It’s when the veil is at its thinnest and we honor the lives of our ancestors and protect ourselves against the hurtful spirits of the afterlife that tries to cross the borders” he said. “We do some protection spells and commune with the magic in nature because it’s one of the times of the year where it’s particularly powerful. We don’t tell stupid horror stories or swap candy with each other.”

  
Virgil stood, quickly collecting his stuff and walked away from their spot, moving toward the library exit.

  
“Where are you going?” called Patton behind him. Virgil did not look back, his legs moving fast and his face red and furious.

  
“Somewhere without moronic people!” he yelled instead.

  
Virgil pushed the doors open hard, making them slam against the walls. He took off down the dark, empty hallway. Windows filled with moonshine shining upon the walls, mixing the silvery light with the golden of the candles on the walls.  
He could hear the others calling his name, but he would not turn back. Everything seemed on edge, everything was closing in. it was bad, it was bad. Virgil punched and kicked the air, an angry yell slipping through into the silence.

  
“What a spectacle.”

  
Virgil yelped and spun around, seeing Roman standing there watching him with wide eyes. His expression brought back the memory from last weekend and it was too much. Virgil hunched in on himself, sneering back at him.

  
“What do you want Princey? Go bother someone else, I’m not in the mood.”

  
“What’s your problem? I’ve been trying to talk to you ever since the match” Roman exclaimed, clearly defensive.

  
“Yea well, I’ve been avoiding you since then!”

  
“Why?!”

  
“You’re not my friend! You’re closer to be my bloody enemy Your Highness. You don’t get to ask!” Virgil turned around, stomping toward the stairs that would bring him closer to the dungeons, three floors down.

  
“Would you just stop! I am trying to be nice to you!” Roman yelled angrily behind him.

  
“Yea? Stop trying Sir-Bleach-Too-Much!”

  
Virgil jumped down the stairs, two at a time in his hurry to get away. Loud footsteps followed close behind and before Virgil began running down the next hall, classrooms on both sides, a calloused hand grabbed his shoulder and whirled him around, facing the angry brown eyes and red-flushed face of Roman.

  
He tried fighting his way out of the grip, but Roman maneuvered him up against a wall, letting his violin case fall to the floor with a jarring sound, to hold both his shoulders at arm’s length.

  
His touch burning through his clothes, the warmth wandering up his neck and cheeks, to the tips of his ears in a bright, red flush. It clearly came from the anger he felt toward the other.

  
“First off; I don’t bleach my hair, this is all-natural, golden gloriousness, but clever use of mixing it with Sir Lancelot, I’ll give you that one. Second! I only wanted to thank you for catching me, but I’m not going to now, since you’re so annoyingly rude!”

  
Roman let go of him to cross his arms, his face still flushed with anger all the way to the tips of his ears. Virgil only stared back, not moving from his forced spot.

  
They stood glaring at each other for some time, silence roaring between them except for the angry huffs Roman made once in a while. What was his deal? This whole thing was so absurd! He caught him once, undoing what he had started, and now Roman was everywhere. He had never been interested in having anything to do with him before, unless it had something to do with teasing him and always with his gang of buffoon friends behind him. Never alone like this. It was throwing Virgil way off.

  
“Thanks.”

  
Virgil focused back on Roman, the face of the blonde becoming more impatient by the second.

  
“You deserve it, so thank you” Roman mumbled, looking away. “But you’re still incredibly rude! Is it a druidic thing? Being all mysterious and angsty?”

  
“Angsty? What?” confusion painted his voice clearly.

  
Roman rolled his eyes before gazing back at him, his brow furrowed for a bit until the Prince reappeared and he stood straight, with a small smirk on his face as he regarded the Slytherin.

  
“Never mind. I guess I’ll see you around… Virgil.”

  
With that he collected his violin case, dusted the non-existing dirt from it and walked up the staircase again, disappearing at the top and leaving Virgil alone against the wall, mind reeling at the quickly switching moods.

  
What in the world?

 

 

  
“Are you going home for Samhain tonight?”

  
Virgil looked up from his struggling fight with their Bouncing Bulb. The plant the size of half his forearm was trying to jump out of his firm grip upon its purple body.

  
Patton had spoken softly next to him, digging absentmindedly in the pot of dirt they were supposed to place the plant inside. It was not like Patton to be so subdued, his eyes clouded, not leaving the mulch for a second.

  
Virgil grunted as the Bouncing Bulb jumped and crashed harshly down onto the table again, causing Virgil to stretch and smash with it.

  
“No” he groaned. “I’m not, I’m just going to find a quiet place here somewhere.”

  
Patton dug some dirt out of the pot, getting the hole bigger for the plant.

  
“Are you mad at me?”

  
The plant almost got loose when Virgil focused back on Patton. His brow was furrowed in concern, his eyes dark and his mouth was a thin downturned line. It was a far cry from the sunny energy there usually hang around the Hufflepuff like a tight, warm blanket. It did not sit right with him.

  
“Of course not” he said. “Why would I be?”

  
Patton dug the trowel into the dirt, making it stick and looked up at Virgil carefully, before looking away again, his ears burning bright red.

  
“I know that you are mad about something” he told him quietly. “I can feel it in my chest… and in my head. I just thought that it had something to do with me, since we haven’t really talked since Sunday.”

  
“You can feel it?”

  
By the way Patton sighed, Virgil figured that he had gotten that question quite a lot.

  
“Ehm yea, I’m an empath you see… feelings and energies are kind of my expertise area” his laugh hollow and his smile wavering.

  
Virgil hugged the plant to his chest, feeling it squirming in his arms but much more bearable to handle.

  
An empath. He had heard about those, they were even more rare than the once that had a talent for legilimency. They were often praised in the druidic society for being natural peace makers. And here he was; kicked out of the druid life and now finding out that the one closest to be a friend, was a Muggleborn empath. The Elders would surely hate him for it.

  
Patton was digging around in the pot until the hole was big enough for Virgil to drop the Bouncing Bulb into it, where it snuggly made itself at home.

  
They helped each other filling the pot back up with fresh mulch. Virgil watching as Patton avoided his eyes, his smile still strained. Virgil patted the ground around the green leaves with a sigh.

  
“I’m not mad at you, I’m just having some off days right now. And it didn’t really help that you brought Roman” Patton looked up with wide eyes, Virgil quickly resumed.

  
“I promise I’m not mad at you! I just don’t really like him, and with everything else, he was just the rotten cherry on top! I’m not mad I’m just… I don’t know.”

  
This time it was Virgil who avoided the other’s gaze, feeling put out and too open in the green house.

  
“You’re sad.”

  
Virgil shook his head looking away.

  
“If you want” Patton started. “We can celebrate Samhain together, just the two of us. Maybe Logan too? Like a small makeshift family!”

  
Family.

  
Friends.

  
Virgil gave a small smile but was not sure what to make of it all. Patton’s bright smile was back, his eyes lit up. He did not want to cause them to dim again, but he was not ready for this… whatever it was either.

  
“Thanks Pat” he said, grateful but still unsure. His smile disappearing slightly.

  
“But… I think I just want to be alone tonight, if you don’t mind?”

  
Patton gave him a small smile and ruffled his fringe, making Virgil huff.

  
“Of course not kiddo! It was only a suggestion. I can come and pick you up when you’re done, then we can go get some cookies in the kitchen if you want to?”

  
Virgil gave a small relieved smile, his heart feeling lighter than it had in a long time.

  
“I’d like that.”

 

 

  
The scent of pumpkins flowed through the air in the castle. Baked pumpkins, pumpkin pies, pumpkin soup, pumpkin bread, Cakes and candies and pies of different kinds together with different types of sodas, juice, hot drinks and butterbeers.  
There was laughter coming from the Great Hall, every student and teacher gathered for a night of delicious foods, dimmed lighting and horror stories.

  
Virgil had shifted into some more comfortable clothing. His old, dark hoody, with the purple patches his grandmother had sewn, was pulled tightly unto his body, the hood brought up over his head where it would hide his ears from the cold wind outside. His jeans were dark and comfy, and his bag was filled with candles for the ceremony and apples from the kitchen he would use as offerings.

  
If Virgil was right, the astronomical twilight was in about half an hour, that would be enough time to set everything up and in itself, the twilight would become a border between light and dark and with the water edge of the Great Lake, Virgil had a failsafe border for the ceremony.

  
As Virgil came up from the staircase entrance from the dungeons, he collided with a body wearing black and red, both of them stumbling for balance, gripping unto each other to avoid the floor. Something hard smashed against his back, with a sound of melodious strings. A case of some kind.

  
Virgil looked up into surprised brown eyes that narrowed into slits in realization.

  
“Virgil.”

  
“Roman.” Answered Virgil in the same curt voice, narrowing his eyes as well.

  
The both of them took two steps back, circling each other until Virgil had his back toward the grand doors and Roman’s was to the Great Hall.

  
“Off to do your Samhain thing?”

  
“Yup.”

  
“Good luck with that.”

  
“Don’t need it but thanks.”

  
“Hm.”

  
They glared at each other for a bit longer.

  
“Aren’t you supposed to do your Halloween thing?” he asked, waving his hand toward the doors behind Roman.

  
The Gryffindor looked toward the ceiling and shook his violin case in front of him, making sure that Virgil could see it properly. It was black with golden, swirling letters that wrote Roman H. Ayers on the side.

  
“Forgot it in the commons. Can’t play music without an instrument.”

  
“Right… Good luck with that then.”

  
“Don’t need it” Roman answered with a sigh, looking back at Virgil with a glint in his eyes. “But thank you.”

  
Virgil huffed a small laugh, concealing it with a cough. Roman gave a small smile, then turned around, walking toward the Great Hall, leaving Virgil to watch him until he was gone behind the closed doors. Sounds of happy whooping was spilling from the room.

  
With a small shake of his head, Virgil began his trek toward the Black Lake.

  
The evening air was chilly to his skin as he stepped outside and walked the grassy plane. The waning moon was lighting up the sky from right above the forbidden forest, luminating the dark clouds and giving the world a silvery shine. Long shadows being cast from the trees.

  
He could see the towers of the castle, formed by the light from the inside. It was a brilliant view. Quiet and otherworldly in a way.

  
Virgil walked by Gryffindor tower, looking up at its looming, dark form. He wondered to himself what it would have been like if he had ended up there instead of in Slytherin. Would he have had more prestige in being part of the brave and bold, than being with the cold and cunning? Would they have opened their arms and given him a warm welcome, a sense of belonging and understanding that he had never truly gotten before?

  
He shook his head and walked faster, bypassing the Clock Building as well. He was definitely not bold that was for sure.

  
The Black Lake was beautiful at this time. The dark water looked to be glittering with stars, the waves sounding calm and serene, no other sounds than the small wind that ruffled his clothing and the branches in the trees around him slightly. As the light of the day almost disappeared behind the horizon, Virgil quickly walked to the edge of the water and went to work.

  
He laid out the candles carefully in a half circle, ending both ends at the edge of the water, surrounding him in a golden light as he lit them one by one. He pulled out the three apples from his bag, laying them down in a line in front of him, polishing one of them since its red color seemed too flat.

  
Each was an offering for the family that no longer resided this plane of existence. His mother and father… his grandmother.

  
Virgil pressed a hand to his eyes, willing a tear to stay put. The moon brightened when a cloud moved from its front, casting more glitter at the waters.

  
Virgil cleared his throat and sat down, his legs crossed in front of him as he looked out toward the darkness, letting himself be in the moment before closing his eyes, taking a deep breath to collect his thoughts and started to pray.

  
He prayed for the happiness of his family on the other side, telling them of his time without them and hoping that he would see them someday. He told of how he hoped the gods had giving mercy to his mother, by letting his father join her in Avalon instead of leaving her for another heaven.

  
He told his grandmother how much he missed her and wished for her guidance to keep going.

  
Tears fell from his closed eyes, falling to the ground as he bowed his head.

  
A harsh wind came from the lake, blowing away his hood and ruffled his dark hair with its watery smell.

  
Something tugged at his chest. It felt like a chain pulling at his heart, craving to be heard. He felt the heat from the candles burning brighter around him.

  
The smell of ozone and electricity gathered in the air.

  
The sound of nature dimmed and withered away, leaving an unnatural stillness behind. He heard a crack of thunder, but it sounded distant.

  
A feeling a peace settled in him as he felt the tug again, begging him to open his eyes. So, he did.

  
Virgil lifted his head to look toward the water, the wind blowing harshly around him, but soundless. He squinted a tad to avoid getting dust and water droplets in his eyes. The candles burning brighter than ever, keeping him warm in the cooling wind.  
On the water standing twenty feet from him, stood a dark shape clad in robes. They moved to pull off their hood, letting their long grey, wavy hair fall around their shoulder, not moving with the wind.

  
Virgil was too shocked to feel shocked. He watched as they walked toward him, the waves not rippling with each step, instead helping the figure to move until she stopped at the edge of the border, separating them in each plane. The plane of the living and the one of the dead.

  
Virgil swallowed, his throat clenching as he whispered.

  
“Grandma.”

  
She smiled gently to him, her wrinkles stretching with her skin and her blue eyes shining as she regarded him.

  
“Hello, my little storm cloud.”

  
A sob ripped from his throat, his chest hurting with the pain of longing. He had never heard of this happening before, it had never happened when he had done the ceremony with her back home. But she was really here. He could feel her warm presence, reminding him of their cottage back at the island in Wales. He stood quickly, wobbling for a bit as he dried his eyes.

  
“You’re here.”

  
She smiled again, but this time it was sad. They both knew that they could not cross over, only regard each other from their own sides.

  
“My… You have grown even more haven’t you?” her voice sounding watery.

  
Virgil carded his fingers through his fringe, smiling self-consciously, before it slipped to his side, and another tear fell.

  
“I miss you.”

  
“I know dearest, I miss you too. More than anything in all worlds, but it was my time.”

  
“I know” he said, hating himself for his wobbling voice. “It just doesn’t make it any easier, you were gone so suddenly I couldn’t… everything was just…” he huffed, trying to gather his wits.

  
Alaw reached out a hand without moving to cross the water, hushing him gently.

 

I don’t have much time Virgil, I didn’t only come to say a proper goodbye for now. I was send with a message.”

  
Virgil looked up, his face pinched in grief and cold tear tracks glistening on his cheeks.

  
“A message?”

  
A crack of thunder sounded closer, but muted. Another followed soon after, light falling from the sky.

  
“A dark time is coming” she told him, her eyes dark and serious. “Things aren’t what they seem and both people will fall under the spell. You must be prepared for the chaos, even though most won’t believe you, your friends will.”

  
“I don’t have friends.”

  
She gave him a sharp look, muting him.

  
“You are your family. You are your blood. You are your magic. You are of both worlds Virgil.”

  
“You’re not making any sense! What do you mean?” he asked loudly, trying to speak above the growing wind and the cracking thunder.

  
Her expression turned darker, her eyes glowing gold, lighting up her features in a terrifying display.

  
Virgil gaped at her, watching as she took a step forward and joined him on land.

  
“You can’t” he said, his voice hoarse. “How?”

  
“You are your family.”

  
With that she slammed her right hand upon the left side of his chest, right beneath his collarbone, gripping his flesh tightly with nails that felt like claws pushing through. The other hand came around and held him up by the neck as his knees buckled with the burning pain erupting on his skin and tightened dangerously in his heart.

  
With his body flushed up against hers, he let his head roll back and watched as the sky erupted in constant light. Glowing white and purple with the lightning that flew across the darkness of the Samhain sky.

  
With the sound of thunder, the burning intensified making him scream his throat to pieces, his voice echoing above the lake and in between the trees.

  
As the hard grip on his chest abruptly fell away and the dark mist of his grandmother disappeared, Virgil stood swaying on the spot, his eyes half-lidded and heavy. His breath hitched each time he managed to take another, his skin was burning and glazed with sweat. He could feel the slow thu-thump of his heartbeat on the hurting area.

  
Virgil was almost certain he heard someone call out his name. It echoed in the small gathering of naked trees, echoed in his mind, calling. Frightened, worried. Two voices? They came closer. Echoing repeatedly. He heard their footsteps. They were running. Running on the pebbles, coming toward him.

  
His legs gave out and he felt himself fall slowly to the pebble clad ground. His face hitting the wet stones.

  
“Virgil!”

  
Darkness closed in, leaving the image of lightning cracking above the water of the unnaturally still lake. It was the last thing he saw before he was pulled under.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Playlist for The Crest of Merlin - a song for each chapter:
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=x6wMinZPiHo&list=PLFZqzIR8tuAzMAnwsIAYEgwGUyDR-ILG9


	5. Chapter 5

_“… Virgil! Virgil! He’s going to burn!”_  
A scream and stumbling feet. Harsh breathing.  
_“Stand back from the fire! Aqua Eructo!”_

  
…

 

He felt weightless, like he was flying in the electrified air. Something held him. There were feet thumping on the ground, jostling him. A soft whimper escaped as the burning increased again.  
_“Don’t worry, we’re almost there.”_  
A breathless whisper above him.  
_“Patton open the door!”_

  
…

 

 _“…Outside by the lake… ran as fast as we could when the storm… We don’t know, he was hot when Patton touched him but then he felt like ice.”_  
Someone touched his forehead, moving his sweaty fringe.  
_“He’s burning now. Miss Alden start an…”_

  
…

 

 _“… It lit up my entire bag and burned through some of my books! What happened?”_  
_“We don’t know, he just stood there staring up into the sky, not answering when we called and then he just collapsed and almost fell into the freaking fire!”_  
_“Calm down Patton.”_  
_“I am calm! I feel his bloody pain and grief, I’m as freaking calm as I can be!”_

  
…

 

Something heavy was laid upon him, warming his freezing body. He could feel the sweat falling from his brow, his lips felt chapped and his eyes were too heavy to open. His chest burned with every breath.  
He was so tired. The tug of sleep gathered around him once again, pulling him toward it.  
“…I’m… magic.”  
_“Virgil?”_  
Hands clambered over the bedding, grasping his hand gently.  
_“Is he awake?”_  
_“Shh!”_  
He felt a squeeze, grounding him for a second longer.  
_“Virgil? Kiddo?”_  
“…Chaos… I’m my…”  
_“What? What did he say?”_  
_“…-gil? Kiddo, what chaos?”_

 

…

  
_“Kiddo?”_

_..._

 

  
The light shone into his eyes when he finally managed to open them narrowly. He was looking up into a high ceiling, white rafters and light stoned walls when he looked further down.

  
Beds were standing side by side along the other wall of the room. Their bedding was a soft white, striped with a light grey. Curtains were pushed to the sight, but if need be they could be pulled around each bed, secluding them from the rest of the world.

  
There was a smell of potions you would barf at if you tasted them, but also a scent of earthy musk and… mint?

  
Virgil looked to his right, not moving from the soft pillow he had gotten. Surprise was one word for what he felt. Something zoomed shortly by in his gut.

  
In the chair by his side sat Roman. His neck was craned back, his mouth open and a soft snore escaped him now and then. His school shirt was rumpled, and necktie undone, leaving a collarbone exposed for Virgil to see.

  
What was he doing here? Why were they in the infirmary? The last question was quickly answered by the burning at his left collarbone, when he shifted too much. Virgil hissed through his teeth, grimacing at the small surge of pain, looking down at the white, shirt covered part of him. He tried touching the skin, feeling a slight swelling underneath the clothing.

  
What happened?

  
The chair scraped back as Roman shifted his weight. Virgil looked back at the Gryffindor. Watching him clear his eyes groggily, before he found that Virgil was looking at him.

  
In a second, he was on his feet, standing over Virgil with a relieved smile on his face, chocolate eyes shining.

  
“You’re awake! Thank Merlin, you’ve been out for forever!”

  
Virgil looked at him confused, eyes half-lidded.

  
“What are you doing here?” he rumbled, his voice grating and dry.

  
Roman sighed and sat down again, scooting his chair closer to the bedside, resting his arms on the bed, right next to Virgil’s hip.

  
“We had to send Patton away to get some sleep. Something about his empathetic powers frizzing by your emotions. He kept shifting his moods from just being worried about you, to full on sobbing and being ready to fight anyone that tried to come near you” Roman explained. “Logan went with him to make sure that he actually went to bed and wouldn’t sneak out again to come back. They left a few hours ago I think. And I stayed to guard you!”

  
Virgil stared at him, trying to process what he had been told until something clicked, worry pooling in his stomach.

  
“What about classes? What time is it? We’re going to get detention!”

  
He fought against his body’s complaints and tried to sit up. Roman though, had other plans, pushing him down into the softness again.

  
Virgil was about to come up with a biting remark, but Roman stopped him with a huffed laugh.

  
“Easy there Devil’s Snark, you’re free from school for a couple of days. Patton passed too, since his powers went haywire for a bit and Logan told me that he would come by after classes.”

  
“What about you?”

  
Roman looked a bit taken aback by that, carefully letting the Prince front come to the surface. Virgil huffed, irritated.

  
“You cannot be a true Gryffindor if you have not gotten a detention at least once! And I have gotten quite a few, so one extra is nothing.”

  
Virgil rolled his eyes at all the extravagance.

  
“Whatever, you can leave now.”

  
The prince disappeared and Roman returned with a frown.

  
“I know that we’re even now but I’m going to stay until the others return. Patton’s condition.”

  
“What do you mean ‘even’?” Virgil asked with a sigh. He was ready to go back to sleep now, rolling his head to the other side, facing away from the blonde.

  
“I helped rescue you last night, so we’re even.”

  
Flashes of lightning and fire. Being carried by something, someone. Their strong arms gripping a little tighter when he whimpered his pain out. A whispered reassurance. A door being flung open.

  
Virgil felt a flush appear, making his pale ears turn a bright red.

  
A hand upon his shoulder made him jump and look back. Roman was looking at him with something Virgil would have guessed would be worry if it was on anyone else.

  
“What happened out there Virgil? It looked like you were possessed.”

  
Lightning flashing. Golden eyes searing his soul. Burning, he burned.

  
Virgil touched the swelled area carefully, it stuck a bit to his shirt.

  
“I don’t… I don’t remember.”

 

“Well, that’s clearly a lie. You could at least make an effort and not insult my intelligence.”

  
Virgil snorted indelicately.

  
“Does it hurt? You keep touching it, should I call Miss Alden? Or maybe Madam Pomfrey?”

  
Virgil looked down at his hand that still caressed his collarbone.

  
“It’s a bit swelled but doesn’t hurt that much anymore.”

  
“Okay.”

  
Roman clapped his own thighs and stood, walking around the bed and coming to an end at the other side, moving Virgil’s hand away and started unbuttoning his shirt.

  
“Wha-What are you doing?!”

  
Virgil could feel himself go red all over.

  
“I’m taking a look at the swelling, it could be an infection” Roman said. “Stop fussing!”

  
“Then stop touching me!”

  
Roman pulled his shirt cautiously aside and then his hands disappeared. Virgil looked up through the fringe he had shaken down in embarrassment. Roman stood with wide eyes, his mouth forming a small confused ‘o’.

  
“I didn’t know druids still got tattoos.”

  
What?

  
Virgil quickly looked down, craning his neck further back to see better. There should not be anything to see other than his own pale skin, but Roman was right. There were no claw marks from yesterday, but a black, shining triskelion had appeared upon his skin, right underneath his left collarbone. Or had mixed with his skin. Become his skin.

  
It was the druidic tattoo all druids got except for Virgil.

  
It should not be there.

  
Virgil felt his throat close up and his eyes burn as he reverently started caressing its form. He should not have this. He was not a true druid.

  
Biting his lip as he came to a decision, he scratched harshly at the black skin, wanting it gone! Wanting it off! He scratched as hard as he could, digging his nails in like the claws that should have marked him. He kept going only for seconds until Roman took a strong hold on his wrists and held down his arms against the bed.

  
“Don’t do that! What are you doing?!”

  
“It shouldn’t be there! I’m not worthy! I’m not worthy!” he screamed up in the flustered face of Roman. “Let me go! I want it off!”

  
A boom of power went through him, electrifying every cell in his being and flung Roman off him and into the iron bed opposite Virgil’s.

  
He scratched as hard as he could, his nails coming away red, but the black skin was still covering him. He began sobbing uncontrollably in his panic, his breathing lost to him. He closed his eyes to avoid looking at the cursed skin.

  
“Mr. Morgan! Calm down boy.”

  
Hands held him down again. He fought against the delicate ones on his wrists and the broader, stronger ones that pushed his shoulders down.

  
Virgil opened his eyes again, tears cascading down his cheeks. Roman was standing above him. Golden hair tousled, his cheeks red, and brown eyes were shining as they gazed into his own.

  
Virgil roared in anger.

  
Madam Pomfrey swung her wand toward him.

  
“ _Nunc Somnum_.”

  
He was asleep before he could think to stop screaming.

 

 

  
When Virgil woke the next time, he refused to talk to Roman, going as far as to look in other directions when he tried to get contact.

  
He knew that it was childish behavior, but he would not forgive him for helping Madam Pomfrey in putting him under. His head was still groggy, and he could feel an oncoming headache behind his eye sockets.

  
They sat for a while in silence. Ignoring each other like the pathetic teenagers they were.

  
Madam Pomfrey had gone back to her office, leaving Miss Alden to clean and work on some potions in the in the other end of the infirmary.

  
A sound of running feet echoed in the hallway outside of the room.

  
Both Virgil and Roman looked toward the sound in time to see Logan and Patton barrel themselves in through the door, clearly out of breath, Logan adjusting his bag and tie when they slowed down to a walk.  
Miss Alden shook her head at them, before going back to cleaning one of the bigger cauldrons.

  
Patton lit up to the brightest level Virgil had ever seen, and rushed toward his bed, throwing Roman away from the bedside and jumped onto Virgil in a giant bear hug.

  
“You’re okay! I thought you were going to die!”

  
Patton sniffled against Virgil’s neck, his frame shaking.

  
He tried comforting the Hufflepuff by patting his back soothingly but ended up wincing too much for Logan to handle.

  
He stood forward and gently pulled Patton away, holding on to him as he took a few deep breaths before smiling watery, sniffling softly.

  
“Sorry. It’s just so good to see you awake kiddo.”

  
He dried away a tear with his hand, glasses going up to his forehead with the motion, before settling back on his nose again.

  
“Very good indeed” Logan agreed, nodding. “Is this the first time you have been fully awake?”

  
Virgil was about to come up with a lie and say that ‘yes, it was the first time’ since he did not want them to know about his little fit. A stone settling in his stomach at the thought.  
Roman though, beat him to it again.

  
“He was awake two hours ago. Raged all over the place and threw me into the iron frame with the back of my head first.”

  
He caressed his head gently, wincing at the touch.

  
“Wha- How did you- Virgil!”

  
Patton looked flabbergasted between the two. Roman ignoring the hole that Virgil was glaring into his already hurting skull.

  
“I would like to know that as well, but bottom line is that we also came here to tell you that there are druids on the premises.”

  
Virgil sat up quickly, ignoring the pain, voice caught in his throat. He saw Roman react to his sudden move by reaching out to support him, before quickly stopping and frowning down at him instead.

  
Logan nodded seriously, the total opposite to Patton who stood bouncing next to him.

  
“Isn’t that exciting Virgil? Maybe you know them?” he said. “Tell him why they’re here Logan!”

  
“It appears that the storm was not a single incident only happening at the Hogwarts grounds. It also happened at the archeological digging site by Huddersfield too and it has gotten the druids to react” he told them carefully. “The Prophet wrote about it this morning. Apparently, they have set out to locate the center of the magical abnormally. Or so the Prophet said.”

  
“Who… who has arrived?”

  
Logan did not need to answer. He already knew.

  
“The leaders of the three communities in Great Britain. I believe they will be wanting to speak with you three, since you were outside in the storm last night.”

  
Virgil felt cold all the sudden. What would they say when they saw that Virgil was one of the three? Had he done something to create the abnormally? Had he done something wrong?

  
He looked down in thought, ignoring the others talk and Roman’s questions.

  
What would Taliesin say? Would he tell the other leaders of how he was not a druid anymore and bring shame on his family? Dread filled his being. Would the others hear it? What would they say?  
Virgil glanced at the others. They stood huddled together next to his bedside, but still close enough for him to be part of the group.

  
What would they say if they knew that he had not told them the truth? That he was a half-blood without heritage.

  
He carefully touched his covered swelled skin, tracing the familiar tattoo before hiding it away completely by buttoning up his shirt. He should not have it and Taliesin would definitely shame him even more if he knew he had gotten it.

  
“Are you okay?”

  
Virgil looked up at the question. The three of them were staring back at him with various degrees of worry mixed with something else. For Patton it was worry and urgency. Logan looked at him curiously and Roman had a face filled with annoyance too.

  
“Yea I’m fine… Just not really feeling it with visitors.”

  
“Unfortunately, Mr. Morgan I will have to let you down in that aspect, since our guests have come on important business and wishes to talk with the four of you” professor McGonagall declared as she entered the infirmary with three robe clad people walking proudly behind her.

  
Virgil shrunk back slowly, trying to disappear into his bed when he met the indifferent face of his former leader.

  
“Pardon me professor… you said the four of us?” Logan inquired.

  
“That is correct Mr. Montgomery” she acknowledged as she led them to Virgil’s bedside, making the three teens move away to make place for the elders. None of them took a seat when she conjured chairs for them all to use, instead choosing to loom over him. Or that was what he felt they were doing.

  
The professor looked exasperated.

  
“As I recall you came barging in with a smoking bag, yelling louder than the storm that was going on outside, not long after the first three had gotten here.”

  
Virgil glanced quickly at Logan, seeing as his neck began turning red, even though he kept his stoic expression.

  
The druidic leaders took off their hoods, all their robes being white, with a special color to each.

  
The one with the dark blue swirling was an elderly woman, older than Virgil’s former leader. She had completely white hair collected in a bun by the neck and fair skin. She presented herself as Norma, leader of the Tobar na H-aoise order, the most northern druidic community that recited in Scotland.

  
The second was also a woman, who had long curly, dark grey hair and olive skin. She was wearing the color of green and greeted them with a smile, saying her name was Elethea and she was the healer and leader of Amesbury. The order that protected the famous Stonehenge.

  
And lastly, the leader of Ynes Môn, wearing the color of purple.

  
Taliesin moved his hood away, revealing his bald head and wild, grey eyebrows. His piercing gaze was looking straight at Virgil, making him shrink further into himself and looking down at his lap.

  
“Hello Virgil.”

  
He nodded at him and glanced cautiously up.

  
The three leaders were standing close by his right side, while professor McGonagall, Logan, Patton and Roman stood by the foot of his bed.

  
“Can you tell us what you’re here for now?” the professor implored. “I understand that the given incidents during Halloween evening has been quite the magical events, and therefore I let you examine the grounds around the lake, but I’m not quite sure why my students have anything to do with that.”

  
“As far as we can gather, there was a ceremony held last night by the lake” Elethea explained. “And either there was more than one being there or the other three were simply eyewitnesses.”  
“What kind of ceremony?”

  
They all looked shortly back at Logan, before resuming their staring.

  
“It looked to be a normal honoring of heritage” Elethea answered kindly. “But were you trying to harvest the energies as well dear?”

  
“He would not be able to do that” Taliesin interrupted gruffly.

  
His fellow leaders frowned at him, Norma being the one to demand an answer.

  
“What do you mean by that?”

  
“He’s Alaw’s grandson.”

  
The leaders stilled and looked back at him with stoic expressions. Even the kind Elethea had stopped smiling and looked at him with more pity than he cared for.

  
“So, this is the Non-druid.”

  
Virgil flinched violently.

  
Norma looked back at Taliesin as if he had to make a clarification, even though Virgil was right there in front of her. Not that he had the courage to speak up if she had asked him.

  
Taliesin was about to answer her, still looking at Virgil with his eagle eyes, when professor McGonagall stepped forward, her eyes furious.

  
“Excuse me! I would like for you all to handle yourself like the respectable adults I was lead to believe you were and stop exposing the private affairs of my student to the rest of the room!”

  
Taliesin glanced back at McGonagall, giving her curt nod before looking at Virgil, a judgmental expression upon his face.

  
“What happened boy?”

  
The way he spoke. The way the word boy had turned into something bitter, something bad, had Virgil swallowing a lump. He could feel the stares from all of them. A confused edge to the youngest part of the group and an arrogant one from his former leader. He felt compelled to answer, even though he did not want to talk with the druids.

  
He breathed in shakily before looking up at Taliesin, but without meeting his eyes.

  
“I was preparing to honor my family and had just sat down to do my prayer when I… I felt this tug in my chest” he told them, touching where his heart resided carefully. “it wasn’t bad, it was… gentle. And everything had quieted down. I could hear thunder, but everything else disappeared. And then I saw my grandma.”

  
“Alaw?” asked Elethea.

  
Virgil nodded slowly.

  
“She stood in the water and walked to me until she stood at the edge. We spoke and then she told me she had a message.”

  
“From where?” demanded Taliesin.

  
The three teens had gotten closer, Patton and Logan standing by Virgil’s left side. Patton gave him a small, reassuring smile when he glanced at him.

  
“I don’t know. But she told me about a dark time that would come and something about a spell… she said there would be chaos, but nothing else.”

  
“Nothing?” Norma inquired.

  
“If it was a prophecy, there would be more to go with. A glimpse of sort” Elethea said. “Did anything happen? Did you see something unnatural? A vision of some other place or shadow people perhaps?”

  
Virgil thought to himself. She had given him the message, but it was mixed with something personal and he knew that if it was a prophecy it would not include him in the equation. But something had happened when he had started demanding a clear answer.

  
“She stepped over the border…”

  
“What?” the druids exclaimed.

  
“What?” Patton asked, Roman looking equally confused and Logan watched thoughtfully. “What border?”

  
“Her eyes glowed gold, and she repeated herself as she stood on the side of the living” he answered, watching as the elders looked at him with rapt attention. He looked away. “I don’t remember anything else, except for bits and pieces and then I woke up here.”

  
Taliesin nodded thoughtfully and turned to the three other teens, his authority quickly making them all stand a little straighter unconsciously.

  
“What did you see happen?”

  
Virgil watched as the three of them glanced at each other. None of them seemingly wanted to be the first, Patton being the one to fiddle with his fingers and Roman finding something interesting up in the ceiling.  
Logan adjusted his robe and cleared his throat, making eye contact with the druid.

  
“I was not there at the time of the storm” he started. “We had just finished the feast at the Great Hall, when Patton pulled me aside and asked if I wanted to go with him to collect Virgil and then go to the kitchen for cookies” he glanced discreetly at McGonagall out of the corner of his eye.

  
“I told him that I wanted to leave my bag in my dorm and then come join them by the entrance of the kitchen. Patton was okay with that, so we separated. He went outside, and I went to the Ravenclaw Tower with my things. When I came by a window at the fourth floor I found that the storm had gotten worse, though mysteriously so, because it did not rain normally, they came more as if it rained with lightning, that is how regularly they came.”

  
Logan shook his head before continuing.

  
“I decided to head back because I knew that Patton and Virgil were out there. When I got to the second floor a bright light almost blinded me to an extend and I had to drop my bag because of the heat. I then had to stump on it since there seemed to have been a spontaneous fire inside of it. The light disappeared with the smoke and I found that some of my books were still glowing embers and had gotten holes in the shape of this box.”

  
He opened his bag and pulled Virgil’s box up carefully. Virgil had been somewhat apprehensive at the thought of Logan stomping on his bag with it still inside, but it looked to be as intact and well-polished as ever.

  
Taliesin reached for it and Logan gave it to him, after having gotten confirmation to do so by Virgil.

  
“I found it rather unusual, but I did not have time to wonder any further about it. I ran the last floor before I saw Roman running with Virgil in his arms and Patton by his side, as they entered the Hospital Wing. And so, I followed them here.”  
Taliesin was moving the box around in his hands, his brow furrowed slightly.

  
“You said that this glowed?”

  
“Yes. A very strong, white light.” Logan answered curtly.

  
The druid leader hummed to himself not looking up. Virgil watched the box in his hands, a feeling of insecurity forming in his chest. He did not like the considering expression on his face.

  
“What about you?” Norma spoke, talking to Patton and Roman. “You were with him when it happened, did you see anything?”

  
They looked at each other shortly, before Roman started with grandeur in his voice.

  
“I was on my way to Gryffindor Tower with my dorm mates, when I saw Patton walk outside, which I thought was a bit odd with how the thunderstorm had begun maybe five minutes prior.”

  
“And Roman ran over and asked what I was doing and when I told him, he was a true, chivalrous Gryffindor and said that he wanted to come with me. Just to be safe” Patton continued, almost interrupting Roman.

  
“It was pretty scary, and we ran most of the way. Because the storm just kept getting worse and worse” Patton said.

  
“We saw a lightning almost hitting the Whomping Willow” Roman reminded, Patton’s eyes got bigger as he recalled the incident.

  
“That’s right! And we ran faster after that!”

  
“Then suddenly it was as if the sky almost erupted in daylight! There was lightning everywhere, it looked closer to a spiderweb- “

  
“And they were not just white, they were also purple” Patton interrupted excitedly.

  
Roman nodded. They had begun looking at each other as the story progressively got told, as if they had forgotten about who they were speaking to and were only a pair of teenage boys that had, had a spectacular experience together.

  
“We pretty much decided that we didn’t want to be roasted out there, and so we sprinted to the tree line- “

  
“Which is bad, because you wouldn’t want to be caught under a tree in a thunderstorm.”

  
“Pat, we’re telling a story” Roman reprimanded, getting a sheepish smile from the bespectacled boy.

  
Roman looked to Virgil, his face somewhat stoic, but there was also that part of an expression again, where he was not sure if he would call it worry on another’s face.

  
“We heard a scream… It was jarring. A terrifying, bloodcurdling scream really. I had never heard anything like that.” Roman’s voice had gotten quiet, but the stillness of the room made it booming.

  
“Patton ran off through the trees, calling out for Virgil.”

  
“You were just standing there kiddo” Patton told him softly. “Your face was turned up to the sky and your back was pulled upwards… it looked really uncomfortable… like you were about to fall or only had strings attached to keep you up or something. You were standing in a ring of fire; the flames went almost all the way up to your hip” he sniffed a little. “I ran as fast as I could, but the stones were slippery… I could hear Roman running behind me too… Then you fell. I was so scared you were going to burn I tried to jump over the flames, but I ended up being the one who got a bit burned.”

  
Patton looked down at his hands, that Virgil now noticed was bandaged.

  
“Clumsy me” he mumbled to himself.

  
Virgil felt choked. He had gotten Patton hurt. Sweet, protective and concerned Patton had tried helping him and had paid the price. He looked away, feeling ashamed of himself. It never mattered what he did, he always ended with hurting people one way or the other.

  
“We got you out of the circle though” Roman continued when it was clear that Patton was done. “I carried you the whole way, the lightning still falling like spiderwebs and the wind had picked up, but we managed to get here in a couple of minutes and Madam Pomfrey got to work in the same second smarty-pants here, came bursting in, and the rest is history.”

  
“We were told to go to bed, but Patton fought very dramatically against the idea for a while and I had to accompany him to his dorm” Logan said.

  
Patton seemed to blush at that.

  
“He didn’t want to go unless there was someone here, in case Dark and Stormy would wake up. So, I stayed behind” this was said in Virgil’s direction. A finality to the explanation for him.

  
“He didn’t speak out loud at any point?” Elethea asked gently.

  
Patton shook his.

  
“He babbled something about chaos at some point, after we got here. It seemed more like fever talk to be honest. I don’t think we heard anything else.” Roman told them. The others nodding in agreement.

  
Elethea and Norma nodded thoughtfully. Taliesin finally looked up from the heirloom, staring Virgil down. He could feel Patton moving closer by his side, slowly putting his hand upon Virgil’s shoulder.

  
“Can we take this with us? It seems that there is a connection between the events of last night and Alaw’s spirit. Perhaps she could be connected to this” Taliesin added as an afterthought, holding it up for further inspection.

  
Virgil’s lip curled defensively against his will, his stomach going cold and his chest hurting with the adrenaline kicking heartbeat. He could feel the compulsion coming from Taliesin. He had always wondered whether it was a form of magic or if he was just that scared of the druid leader, that he could be told to do anything regardless of what he himself thought was best.

  
He clenched his teeth together and hissed the word out, his face contorted in an ugly, rebellious mask.

  
“No.”

  
All eyes were on him. He had to fight himself so as not to slide under the blanket to hide. He kept his eyes on Taliesin, the man’s eyebrows turning down in dismay.

  
“No?”

  
He nodded resolutely. There was no way that man was going to take his heirloom away from him. In an ingenious moment of perhaps bravery, Virgil lifted his hand and with an abrupt hand gesture and a surge of magic, pulled the box harshly out of the hands of his elder, catching it easily in his own.

  
The clear outrage that broke out on his face was almost enough for Virgil to snort. Almost. He kept it together and smothered it quickly when Taliesin stood taller than ever, red faced and almost livid.

  
“You do not show such disrespect to your leader boy! There is no toleration for that kind of behavior in our communities, this is clearly coming from that disgusting muggle blood of yours!”

  
Patton inhaled sharply next to him, making Virgil’s blood boil.

  
“You are not my leader anymore, remember?” he snarked back, his voice ice cold.

  
Taliesin was about to yell back, a quick intake of breath the only warning, before professor McGonagall stepped in and pulled the leaders, somewhat respectfully, away from his bed, moving them toward the entrance of the Hospital Wing.

  
“Due to the fact that I know of my student’s situation with your community, and the fact that he clearly did not consent for you to take his things, I will most certainly say that your time at this school is up and I will gladly accompany you to the gate.”

  
The doors slammed shut and silence rung in the room. Even the two matrons of the infirmary looked a bit shook before they turned back to their work.

  
His muscles were stiff from how tense he had been during the whole visit. But it was the feeling of uselessness and self-loathing that plummeted into his gut, creating a new center of negativity inside of him. His throat closed up slightly.

  
He almost wished he had been a full-blooded druid.

  
Wishing away the cursed and ugly part of his heritage.

  
“Are you okay Patton?” Logan’s voice asked softly.

  
Virgil pulled himself out from his reverie, looking up at the others that were watching Patton dry an eye with his knuckles.

  
“Yes, I’m fine” he said, though his voice sounded a bit croaky. “I just didn’t expect to hear something like that from a druid. They’re supposed to be peaceful, right Virgil?” he looked down at him, his eyes glazed with unshed tears.

  
Virgil looked away.

  
He did not answer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Playlist for The Crest of Merlin - a song for each chapter:
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=x6wMinZPiHo&list=PLFZqzIR8tuAzMAnwsIAYEgwGUyDR-ILG9


	6. Chapter 6

He was looking for his stupid cat once again.

  
Fetch had acted weird ever since he had come back from the Hospital Wing, a couple of days after Samhain, having had to stay in the most boring environment in the whole school. He would never return there again, not if he could help it.

  
Virgil sighed, his breathing becoming a visible mist in the cold, dark, late afternoon air. He was trudging through the newly fallen, crunchy snow in the Courtyard. The weather of the last days of November had created the best start for the coming Christmas month.

  
There was no one in the courtyard, which thankfully gave him some time on his own. He felt tired. Exhausted even. He had not talked to anyone in weeks, only giving curt nods, shakes of the head or small grumbling mumbles here and there, but otherwise he had kept to himself, his self-imposed isolation making his mood plummet even further each day.

  
If it was not for Fetch… where ever she was, he thought that he would call this a catatonic state of mind. If it was not for her he would not feel anything other than the numb feeling in his chest, he had felt ever since the storm had happened. Since the druids had been there. Since he had told the others that he did not feel like talking and that he would let them know when he was ready.

  
Now he just felt the numbness with a dash of guilt.

  
He had screamed at Fetch yesterday, scaring her away after she had pushed the box from his bed with her paw, where it was laid upon his open bag.

  
He had not seen her since, making him worry badly and now for the first time since Samhain, walking around outside even though it was not related to school classes.

  
Virgil had already searched everywhere inside the castle, using most of his Saturday on the task and had now found that he had to expand his search to the outside.

  
The whole search had gotten him thinking.

  
He knew that he had ignored the others the whole month, Patton had tried starting conversations with him in their shared classes, but he always felt too tired and kind of annoyed by it, to answer the conversation starters at all, whether it had been a kind questions or what should have been a fun pun.

  
In a way he was scared that he had pushed the limit.

  
Patton had not tried talking to him for almost two weeks now, and Logan only glanced at him now and then, seemingly waiting but what did he know. Maybe he had ruined everything.

  
He often felt a tightening in his throat and chest area when he saw them. He knew he missed them, but they were better off without him. He just had to pull himself together.

  
Virgil adjusted his green and silver scarf, looking up at the darkening sky. It was almost midnight blue, the sun having nearly disappeared from the horizon. In a way it was symbolic to his own feelings. The darkness was swallowing him whole.

  
His arms stretched out to shoulder height, welcoming the shadows in his mind. The snow crunched as he spun slowly, standing alone in the middle of the courtyard. He closed his eyes, finally finding peace in his solitude.

  
A snowflake touched down on the tip of his nose.

  
“Wow, the reclusive druid has come out of his dungeon cave, color me impressed.”

  
Virgil snapped his eyes open. Roman was standing by the bench near the wall in front of him. His cheeks and nose were red, making his skin look paler than normal. A mischievous smirk was on his lips and his eyes seemed darker than Virgil remembered. Then again, it had been a while.

  
He watched as Roman moved closer. Slowly, but resting in himself. Snow fell in his blond hair, making it glitter like a crown from a fairytale.

  
“Was it a small taste of a druidic dance you did there?” he asked, twirling his finger around as he stopped a couple of feet from Virgil.

  
Embarrassment colored his ears underneath his hood. He quickly stuffed his hands inside his pockets, looked down and made to run back inside, forgetting all about his cat.

  
A hand grabbed his arm, stopping him gently. In a slow move, he was guided around, back to facing Roman who stood close enough that Virgil could feel the warmth coming off of him again.

  
“Where have you been? We barely see you anymore, other than a quick flash and then you’re always gone again.”

  
Virgil refused to look, instead choosing to watch his feet fidget around in the snow beneath him.

  
It was almost rhythmical.

  
“I told you guys to give me time” he mumbled. “Besides, what’s it to you? It’s not like we’ve ever hung out on purpose.”

  
“Not from your perspective no”

  
He looked slightly up at that, thinking that he must have misheard. Roman was looking to the side, his smile gone and dark eyes faraway.

  
What was he thinking of? He could not be serious, it was probably all an act. Play the druid boy, become friends with him and then use him or maybe humiliate him when he would have felt safe and secure in the friendship.  
He shrugged, making the Prince look back down at him.

  
“You can stop pretending Princey, I know what you’re up to. No one in their right mind just starts talking to me without ulterior motives.”

  
Roman scoffed indignantly, crossing his arms and looking slightly peeved.

  
“What about Logan? Or Patton for that matter? Do you really think the Puff-ball could ever be an evil mastermind?”

  
“Don’t call him that!” Virgil hissed defensively per reflex, before the meaning of the questions lit up in his mind. He stood completely frozen in the middle of the Hogwarts winter wonderland.

  
Roman smirked self-deprecatingly.

  
“Or maybe it’s just me? The big, bad Gryffindor who only ever thinks about his own ego and the next daring quest that awaits him.”

  
“Everything isn’t about you” he retorted, cracking his voice embarrassingly.

  
“But this clearly is.”

  
They stared at each other. Each willing the other to either disappear from sight or to be the one to start explaining their situation. To do something.

  
Brown, deep eyes that held a warmth to them that were not easily seen. And grey, storming ones, holding the desperation of a scared, drowning boy.

  
“I don’t… I just don’t understand you” Virgil started lamely, gesturing helplessly with his arms.

  
“You treat me either as you and your friends’ personal punching bag or like I don’t exist at all, and then you’re suddenly all over the place, claiming that you owe me, but we’re even now and you’re still here! What do you want from me?”

  
He could clearly hear the desperation creep into his voice the longer he talked and could easily see how Roman seemed to soften ever so slightly, sighing when Virgil’s eyes tried to convey the need to know.

  
“I don’t know.”

  
Virgil harrumphed at that and turned to the side, ignoring Roman, with a deep flush. Stupid to give so much for it to be for nothing.

  
“Virgil” Roman called, his voice smooth and gentle.

  
He did not want to turn back around. He wanted to forget this whole encounter, find his stupid cat and go back to bed to wallow in his own self-deprecation and emotionally unstable existence.

  
“I only meant that I don’t know why I want to talk to you or be in the same room as you, I just know that I have somewhat… fun, when we talk. Don’t you?”

  
There was a smile in his question. Virgil did not have to turn to see it, a small smile bloomed upon his own face, as his lips turned a bit upward.

  
“I guess” he said, looking from his peripheral view to see the small, insecure smirk the Prince held.

 

“Though you’re usually a complete moron.”

  
Roman barked a laugh at that. “You can be quite dreadful as well, Sinister Sister!”

  
“Sister?!” Virgil snorted loudly, quickly covering his mouth with a cold hand. Roman rolled his eyes good naturedly.

  
“Not my best, I’ll admit that.”

  
Before Virgil could come up with another teasing remark, a shadow of black flew past them, jumping hilariously as it tried to catch the big snowflakes that were falling. It’s eyes were big and its body slim with the fur puffed to fend off the cold.

  
“Fetch!”

  
Virgil walked a few steps toward her before crouching down, his arm outstretched as he tried calling her over. The cat stopped rigidly and looked at him with big, blown eyes.

  
He tried calling her again, more insistently this time, waving his hand around playfully. Roman went to his side, standing with his hands in his pockets, watching it all with amusement. Virgil felt the snow being thawed from his heated face. He was sure of it.  
Stupid cat. How embarrassing.

  
Roman made a small sound with his lips, getting the attention of the black cat immediately. With a mighty speed, she ran to the Gryffindor and jumped for his arms, surprising the both of them deeply enough to make twin yelps escape them. Roman only just managing to catch her.

  
Virgil stood quickly, watching as his cat tried to climb unto the shoulders of the shocked blonde. He almost did not succeed in stopping an astounded laugh at the sight.

  
“What in the world?” Roman asked, holding Fetch tighter to his chest to ease her squirming. “Who are you little guy? Gosh! That’s a lot of energy.”

  
“Girl actually” Virgil snorted, coming closer and started stroking her head. She stretched as far as she could, pushing her weight on her front paws, strategically placed on Roman’s chest. Fetch purred loudly at the attention from the two of them.  
Guess he was forgiven.

  
“Where’ve you been you troll? I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

  
“She’s yours?”

  
He glanced up quickly, giving a small smile before he took his cat from the other. She nuzzled her head into his armpit, nipping at his clothes, her tail whipping playfully around.

  
“Yea, got her after I turned ten because of…” he paused for a moment, shaking his head. “A ceremony that never happened and she was my sort of feel-better-present from my grandma” he told him, scratching Fetch’s stomach. “Guess she never got the memo on how an adult cat should behave, I’ve come to the conclusion by now that she’s a tiny kitten in a grown cat’s body.”

  
He felt Roman’s eyes on him but did not look up. Stroking Fetch was always calming, though this time he was trying hard not to accidentally stroke his hand against Roman’s, as they petted her together.

  
“So” Roman started, clearing his throat slightly. Virgil looked up through his fringe.

  
Roman gave him a small hesitant smile.

  
“Are we friends?” he asked.

  
Friends.

  
Virgil looked away again, thinking.

  
He felt like it was too big a step to make. He did not do friends like everybody else, it could always lead to a worse situation than before and most of the time he was scared to label others as something that would be such an important aspect of his life. It hurt him. He could hurt them.

  
“Virgil?”

  
He glanced up to see the small smile had disappeared from the others face. Virgil sighed and as he turned around he stood taller. Trying to look confident and a bit intimidating.

  
“You’ve got to earn that title Princey” he stated. “We can agree that we’re okay aquatinted though.”

  
Roman melted at that, his stiff posture relaxing as a blinding smile turned on.

  
“It’s better than ‘enemy’. I’ll take it.”

  
Virgil nodded, hiding his blushing face in the dark fur of his cat. In one swift move he had turned around, walking back toward the entrance to the school.

  
“I gotta go.”

  
“See you tomorrow!”

 

 

  
Sunday morning was like any other day.

  
Virgil sat drowsy at his spot, shifting his porridge around on his plate, watching as the sugar melted to the bottom. There was the usual noise in the Great Hall and people opening packages and letters that had just arrived with the owls.

  
His dorm mates were sitting around him, Jake being in front of him on the other side of the table, reading the letter he had just gotten from his family. His eyes widening the further he read.

  
Henry leaned over, to look over his shoulder.

  
“What is it?” he asked, mouth still chewing on a piece of bread with jam on it.

  
Jake wrinkled his nose in disgust, before folding his letter and laying it on the table. He sat a bit straighter ready to address his dorm mates. Virgil blinked the sleep from his eyes, curious to hear some sort of news from outside.

  
“My father works at the International Confederation of Wizards, right? And we’ve been talking back and forth about this whole Camelot Crisis that’s been going on in the Ministry, and apparently it has gotten bigger and now the talk has spread to other nations such as France, Germany and Belgium- “

  
“What talk?”

  
The others looked at him, surprised by either his question or most likely his voluntary participation in the conversation.

  
“What do you mean ‘what talk’? It’s been all over the Prophet since Halloween, don’t you remember the storm?” asked Henry incredulously.

  
“Stop yourself Henry, he’s been down, okay?” said Jake surprisingly, before turning to Virgil again. His blue eyes blazing with passion for the subject.

  
“Do you know about the whole Camelot debate?”

  
Virgil shook his head slowly, watching as Henry leaned back to look at the sky ceiling with a groan.

  
“Okay so, ever since that really freaky storm at Halloween there’s been this whole debate on if it could be possible that King Arthur and Merlin is returning. There’s too many things that’s been happening” Jake told him, counting off with his fingers. “Camelot has been found. There was a magical centered thunderstorm above the ruins, and here for that matter. The druids have been getting antsy and are literally at the Ministry almost every day investigating something that not even my father knows of, AND yesterday the Prophet brought an article about the new findings at the digging site… get this… they found a freaking sword in one of the catacombs, but the muggles can’t move it.”

  
Virgil’s breath caught.

  
Impossible.

  
“So, the whole ‘talk’ thing, is that there’s some stirring politically about the Statue of Secrecy and whether it should be kept if it all came down to it. Some extremists believe that all of these signs mean that it’s time to join the wizarding world with the muggle world again.”

  
“What?!”

  
The three other Slytherins jumped slightly at his exclamation, looking round eyed at him. Jake broke out a small smirk after having gathered his wits again and carding his pale fingers through his blond locks.

  
“That’s exactly what I was thinking when I heard about that one, the first time” he acknowledged, scoffing at the last part. “It’s truly ridiculous. It’s bad enough that muggleborns is a thing and that they’re coming into our society, but to claim that we now have to live alongside like neighbors with them all? It’s frightening don’t you think? Has everyone forgotten why we have that law? How it protects us against them?”

  
The others nodded back at him, but Virgil tuned their very vocal opinions out.

  
This was so confusing. He knew that he had been ‘out’ of sorts with everything else that was not part of his own mind, but to be told that the whole wizarding community was in uproar? How could he have missed that? Why did he not think that far when the druid leaders came to see him? Did they find anything?

  
A thought crashed loudly in his head, making him jump from his seat and power walk to the Ravenclaw table, not caring for once if people were looking.

  
He heard Jake and the others calling confused out to him, but he only had one thought and he needed to find Logan for that.

  
The younger boy looked up from his book, masking his surprise quickly with his stoic expression. Virgil locked eyes with him and nodded toward the doors, as he swiftly moved passed and kept walking out of the room, hearing Logan scramble to his feet and hastily collecting his things, behind him.

  
They needed to open that box, one way or the other.

 

 

  
“That’s preposterous.”

  
“Is it really though?”

  
They stood outside by the castle walls with the view of the boat house beneath them. Or in Virgil’s case, sat upon the ledge next to Logan who stood with his back to the small wall Virgil was sitting on. Logan’s hands twirled the box around, once again trying to get a feel of its magic.

  
“Do you truly think that this… ‘connection’ Taliesin talked about, between this box and the ‘spirit’ of your grandmother, also holds a linking to the political events that is happening around Europe?”

  
“You don’t have to use connotations” Virgil scoffed with an accompanying eyeroll.

  
“I only use it for the disbelieving parts.”

  
Virgil watched as Logan fiddled with the lock on the box, digging the top of his nail into the hole. He seemed aggravated, motions jerkier than the fluid and in control movements he usually had. Virgil knew that some of it came from the fact that they had not talked for a month. The fact that he basically had ignored them all.

  
Virgil looked down at the boat house, watching the waves around it crash leisurely against the ice-covered wood. This whole month had not been his proudest, he would admit that.

  
“It is just… incomprehensible, the fact that you believe that what you saw, which the leaders also firmly believed was not a true vision might I add, has anything to do with the debate that is going on” Logan articulated, turning to rest his arms on the wall and look at the boat house as well. “It could easily have been a dream or a hallucination for that matter, I do not know much about these druidic rituals, if you have to ingest some kind of plant or- “

  
“Are you saying you think I was stoned?” Virgil interrupted surprised, turning to the younger with wide eyes. Logan had the decency to look slightly flustered as he adjusted his glasses and cleared his throat.

  
“Not necessarily. But also, yes. I think you are stretching what happened to you too far and are trying to connect it with something far bigger than us, something that is clearly out of our control and does not have anything to do with this” he explained, gesturing to the box that sat on the wall, shining with the winter sun glancing on its surface.

  
“But… I remember that she told me about a chaos that would develop… a dark time for ‘both people’. Couldn’t she have meant the two worlds instead?”

  
Logan glanced at him skeptically.

  
“Again, as I said, it might as well have been a dream, even if you were ‘not stoned’- “

  
“That’s not disbelieving!”

  
“-you were clearly out of it, and perhaps was closer to a mental breakdown than some kind of revelation. If there was any proof Virgil I would of course believe you, do not doubt that. But as it is, I cannot find any scientific explanation to this and I truly do not think that it has anything to do with the Camelot Crisis. Do not worry.”

  
Virgil nodded slowly, sighing through his nose and looking back ahead, his hand coming to rest underneath his left collarbone. The building of the Great Hall was right in front of them, looming over them but not covering them with its shadow at this time of the day.

  
He glanced down at Logan. The Ravenclaw was fiddling with the box again, playing with the mystery. He felt bad for having pulled him outside without asking, not thinking that perhaps Logan would not want to join him. He had in a way expected that they would go back to before Samhain, but this was clearly not the case. Before, the silence with Logan was welcoming, but now it seemed awkward. Forced. As if it was a matter of feelings that was caught in the silence.

  
“Hey Logan…” he uttered, his voice unsure.

  
Logan hummed deeply.

  
Virgil took a deep breath. Rip it off like a band aid.

  
“I’m sorry about not talking to you” he apologized. “This whole month has been… hard.”

  
“Apology accepted Virgil. I’m happy that you try to clear it out with me but do only talk about it if you want to. I do not want to force anything negative out of you, I wish for you to be comfortable around me, since you are a good friend of mine.”

  
A friend.

  
Logan sounded sincere, though still a bit on edge when he sighed the last part out. Virgil felt a flutter in his stomach at a realization. Both Patton and Logan had called him friend… even Princey had tried, come to think of it.  
Maybe…

  
Virgil shook his head and slid down from the wall. Logan looked up, stopping his fiddling and straightened his posture again.

  
“I want to talk to you guys but… It’s not easy” he mumbled, putting his hands in his pockets swiftly. Logan nodded, giving him an awkward smile and a forced pat on his shoulder.

  
“It will be easier at some point, just take your time.”

  
Virgil gave him a small, grateful smile, feeling a little lighter without the stress of disappointing people. Logan’s hand patted his shoulder one last, awkward time before sinking to his side, the other coming up with the box toward the light. They both looked at it for a moment, taking in the craftmanship.

  
“If you wish, I can try and take it to Flitwick tomorrow? I have to meet him after class regarding an assignment anyway.”

  
Virgil sighed at that. He was still not very fond of letting others in on his personal business, but it is not like they had anything else to try with their own knowledge.

  
“Sure. What the heck, it’s not like we can do it ourselves anyway.”

  
They walked together toward the library, having decided that they wanted to relax without a lot of people around them, and in Virgil’s case get some homework done since he had skipped a lot of the readings the last couple of weeks.

  
Just as they arrived at the Grand Staircase, a blonde Gryffindor came confidently down the steps, smile blown wider when he saw Virgil and Logan. Virgil tried holding back a smile, but then the furry, black thing, Roman had in his arms caught his attention as it suddenly grew a head and looked down at him sleepily.

  
“Hello there Nerd and Dark and Sinister” Roman greeted grandly, turning around to follow them up the stairs.

  
Logan nodded curtly, while Virgil stretched over to take Fetch from the blonde’s arms, confused to find her there of all places. Roman must have seen the nonplussed expression on his face, because a snigger came from him as he petted her on her head, getting a short mewl from the cat.

  
“She found me on the third floor when I tried to go to my common room” he explained. “I thought it was best to try and find you and give her back, since she would not stop following me.”

  
Fetch purred loudly, her eyes closed in bliss and looking like she was smiling. Virgil almost slipped on the last step because he forgot to look where he was going, Roman grabbing his upper arm quickly.

  
“Easy there! I don’t think she would like to topple with you” he laughed.

  
Logan had glanced back at the two at that, probably seeing the red flush that was Virgil’s face. His heart was pumping. Whether it was from embarrassment or the close call fall he had attempted, he did not know.

  
“I don’t think animals are allowed in the library Virgil” Logan pointed out, making the three stop in their tracks and look at the sleeping cat. She was so cute.

  
“Right. I’m just going to leave her in my room and join you afterwards” Virgil decided, shifting his grip on the cat as he began to turn. Logan had nodded in agreement and begun the rest of the trek to the library alone, while Virgil went the other way.

  
He heard footsteps follow him down the stairs again. He huffed a small laugh. Not needing to turn to know who it was.

  
“You don’t need to follow me Princey” he threw over his shoulder.

  
“What kind of prince would I be if I were not gallantly enough to accompany you to your commons?”

  
“What about Logan then?” he asked, glancing to the right as Roman joined his side, walking down the staircase to the dungeons together.

  
“The Nerd knows his way to the library.”

  
“Oh? And I, a Slytherin, Don’t know the way to the Slytherin common room?” he pondered, trying his best innocent look, with his wide, grey eyes darkened in the dim light of the dungeon.  
Roman smirked down at him.

  
“I never know with you.”

  
They stopped at the dim lit wall, where Virgil adjusted Fetch once again before getting his wand and pushing a certain set of bricks making the wall clutter to the sides and open up for him. Roman stroked Fetch’s head one last time, getting a tired trill from her.

  
“I think she likes you” Virgil said, a small smile appearing that he tried valiantly to hide in her fur.

  
Roman’s eyes twinkled as they locked gazes.

  
“I quite like her as well” he answered softly, his hand lingering on her head for a second before letting it fall to his side.

  
As Virgil walked through the dark, he saw Roman lean against the wall behind, hiding his eyes with a hand.

  
“I didn’t see anything if the rest of the snakes asks, Friendo.”

  
Virgil rolled his eyes, the stones moving back to close the doorway.

  
He stepped into the common room and moved quickly between a group of first years playing Exploding Snap in the middle of the floor. One of them called annoyed after him, but he just ran further down the hall where the boys dormitory was.

  
When he entered the room, he quickly laid Fetch gently down on his bed, where she nuzzled her head into his blanket. He stroked her a couple more times before moving toward the door, when he shocked himself by finding Jake in the bed next over, slumped down among all his soft pillows and blanket thrown over himself, his gleaming, blond hair falling elegantly to the dark, pillows. He was reading.

  
“You okay?”

  
Virgil was surprised by the question.

  
“Yea, I’m good.”

  
“Great” Jake put the book aside and pulled his blanket further up. “Now leave, I want to take a nap.”

  
Virgil huffed, there was the regular Jake.

  
“See you later.”

  
“Ciao mi amore.”

  
He could not help but look back at that goodbye, with a raised eyebrow. Jake was completely ignoring him, but his whole face was hidden by the book, which made it difficult to see. After a couple of seconds, trying to deduce what in the world went through the other’s mind, he shrugged and left the room quietly.

  
Roman was still standing with his hand over his face, a satisfied smile on his lip, when Virgil stepped out of the Slytherin headquarters. He could feel a devilish smile stretching.

  
He could not resist.

  
With a mighty shove, the Prince yelped and grabbed for all the bricks on his way down to the floor. Virgil walked away, snorting the whole way until Roman came up by his side, adjusting his shirt and hair aggressively.

  
“What in the name of all things Quidditch was that for?” Roman asked indignantly, eyes flashing and hair fluffy.

  
Virgil smirked behind the back of his hand.

  
“You’ve got to be prepared for anything at all times. Vigilant when you’re near a snake hole you know?”

  
“Oh Ha-ha!” Roman mock laughed, squinting his eyes when they came up from the stairs, ready to begin the trip up the grand staircase.

  
Virgil was about to push him up the steps, just to make sure he learned his lesson, his hand moving toward the broad shoulders of the blonde. Almost touching.

  
“Roman!”

  
The Gryffindor turned so quickly, Virgil was about to fall backwards down the stairs in surprise, quickly hiding his hands behind his back and turning to the same direction toward the bottom of the staircase.

  
Maurice, Freddy and two Gryffindor girls were standing at the first step, Maurice with his arms outstretched and an annoyed face.

  
“What are you doing? Weren’t we going to the pitch?” he scolded.

  
Roman smacked his face.

  
“Right!”

  
He trotted down to them, forgetting all about Virgil who watched him go as he joined the group. Freddy borrowed him his scarf since Roman had neither that nor a jacket before he could get his uniform on down at the locker rooms at the pitch.

  
“What’s up with the Snake? It looked like he was about to hit you” asked Maurice, making the group laugh as they walked to the grand doors.

  
Roman did not even look back as he answered.

  
“Don’t know, let’s go.”

  
“You should really watch your back, I heard last year from one of the Slytherin girls that he eats human flesh in his dorm” one of the girls said seriously, walking up close to the blonde’s side, grapping a hold unto his arm.  
Maurice barked a laugh.

  
“What a waste of space! can’t believe they let him in, in the first place.”

  
Then they were gone.

  
Virgil stood by himself. Confused and a little bit hurt as he found himself abandoned. What had happened? One moment they goofed off and had fun with teasing each other, in the next he was ignored and pushed aside as the Prince’s Gryffindor friends took his place.

  
Virgil scoffed loudly, hands in pockets, hood moved to hide his face in shadow and moving briskly to the library.

  
A filthy Snake.

  
A waste of space.

  
Whatever.

 

 

  
“- hope you do not mind.”

  
Virgil shrugged nonchalantly, but were near his breaking point on the inside, frustration squirming around in his chest, heating everything up.

  
Flitwick had his box. Flitwick had his box. Flitwick had his box. Flitwick had his box.

  
Logan had talked with the professor after his charms class, as he had said he would. The little professor had taken an academical interest in the box, not quite sensing the spells placed upon it and had asked if he could keep it for a couple of days to see if he could figure out which spells had been used.

  
Logan told him that he had been a bit apprehensive about it, since Virgil had been rather unwilling in the first place but had thought that it was the surest way to get the box open and had then, on behalf of Virgil, allowed him to borrow it.

  
They sat out in the courtyard at one of the benches, watching as some second and third years were having a snowball fight in the center. It was just after classes for the day and a lot of people had chosen that day to be in the library, some having taken their spot.

  
They had then decided to go outside for a bit instead, as Logan said; Fresh air helps you to think better and increases your energy level. More oxygen brings greater clarity to the brain, improves your concentration, helps you to think more clearly and has a positive effect on your energy level.

  
Virgil sank further down in his thick, dark jacket and green and silver scarf, watching as Logan almost had disappeared completely in his own clothing. A big hat covering his hair and most of his forehead, leaving the tip of his nose and eyes to be seen.  
“If it is too much I can go and inquire if I can have it back?” Logan’s muffled voice sounded. Virgil shook his head, flinching when a snowball came flying too close, hitting the wall behind them and scattering the pieces of snow everywhere.

  
“No, it’s fine. Don’t bother.”

  
Comfortable silence settled between them, creating a sense of peace. Virgil breathed in and sighed slowly through his nose. A sensation of happy fluttering flying in his stomach for a couple of seconds.

  
A group of first year Hufflepuffs came out the doors, yellow and black scarves, hats and gloves decorating each and every one. Some immediately beginning shoveling snow and throwing it at the second and third years, others helping each other build forts and big balls of snow, that would probably become snowmen at some point.

  
The prefect that had followed them out and let them loose on the others, trudged over to their bench. A big grin brightening his face. Logan shuffled further to his side, making room for the other that went to sit between them.

  
“Hello Patton.”

  
“Hi kiddoes!” Patton greeted, looking at Logan with a smile before turning to Virgil. Observing him. Virgil did not want to look away, it did not feel right, and the guilt was eating at him for having abandoned Patton and his wonderful kindness. His ungloved hands began fidgeting.

  
“You feel better Virgil, I’m happy for you.”

  
In one fell swoop, before Virgil could think of anything, he was being crammed into the soft jacket of Patton, arms all around his back holding him so tightly that he could hear the heartbeat of the other, even through the clothing. It all took him by surprise, but before Patton could pull away, Virgil grabbed onto the other, his arms finding their ways around the other’s waist. He felt his throat tightening and closed his eyes for a moment.

  
“It’s okay kiddo, I’m not mad at you. I understand. Heck maybe I understand you better than yourself, feelings are my specialty right? Besides, I skimmed over you just to check up and make sure if you were ready for me to or Lo to step in.”

  
A watery laugh escaped him, but he did not care. He felt accepted. Safe even. Hidden away in the best bearhug in the world.

  
After having collected himself, Patton let go and smiled brightly at him, looking for all the world proud for some reason. Logan was looking at the both of them, satisfaction clear on his face.

  
The three of them was watching the snowball fight turn into which house could build the best, magical, ice fort in the courtyard. All houses being represented. Though the Hufflepuffs had a tendency to spread out from their own team to help the others out from time to time.

  
There was a wonderful sense of calm unity. A stark parallel to the political crisis happening outside of the wards of the school.

  
Virgil glanced up at the others. They were all sitting closely together, but Logan was leaning more toward Patton. Getting some of his warmth he presumed, the Ravenclaw did run cold. He wanted to ask what their opinion of the whole debate was. What they thought would happen, what they hoped could become of it all. If they shared the same thoughts as himself. If they thought the world could change and make space for outsiders too.

  
Before he could chicken out and tell himself to ask them another time, he let it all out in one breath, words stumbling over his tongue.

  
“What do you-you guys think of the Camelot Cri-Crisis?”

  
Logan leaned forward to be able to look at him, Patton thoughtfully stroking his bare chin teasingly, humming all the while. Logan answered first.

  
“From a historical perspective I do not believe it is something that is able to happen straight away. We are two different people that have been separated for almost five centuries and have had our own historical events happening differing from the other” he told them. “The debate in itself about lifting the Statue of Secrecy is something that should not be taken lightly, it would end up creating a worse system than what we have now if it all would happen in one big swoop.”

  
He adjusted his glasses.

  
“What would seem as a small proclamation of magic in this day and age, would clearly end up on a much larger scale with the technical devices muggles have developed in the last decades, those uhm… electronical phonetics?”

  
“You mean cellphones?” Patton piped in.

  
Logan furrowed his brow, clearly not understanding.

  
“I do not believe they have cells Patton.”

  
Virgil snorted as Patton giggled heartedly next to him, eyes shining.

  
“Well, In my opinion, I think it would be neat to have it all come together like in the old days, right Virgil?” Patton said, big smile beaming. “I can just imagine the faces of my family and friends back home when they find out that me and Paige can do more than just our card tricks! Uh! And think of how easy everything could be? Apparating to visit your family on the other side of the country? No more driving for hours or plane rides or not being able to see someone because they are at a school too far away.”

Patton sighed. “It would be amazing.”

  
Logan looked perplexed.

  
“Patton… it would create anarchy; do you realize that? How many muggles do still believe in magic? How many wizards and witches still hates muggles for the persecution of our ancestors? How openminded are muggles themselves today?”

  
Fair points.

  
“But… you guys are openminded. I’m openminded! Virgil what do you think?”

  
Patton looked so earnest. Logan was watching him like a hawk. He gulped. All of Logan’s points and facts had made him doubt his own opinion and the whole movement pretty quickly. Maybe it was not such a good idea after all, even if the scenario would be welcome. This had to be done delicately.

  
“I’m… I don’t really- “

  
A snowball hit the side of his face, making his fringe fly everywhere, snow falling into his scarf and down his neck. Patton laughed, helping by brushing pieces of snow out of his hair as he turned to glare at whoever had dared hit him.  
His glare intensified when the thrower walked toward them, his head thrown back in mirthful laughter, brown eyes lit with mischief.

  
“Hello fellows! How are you all faring?”

  
Virgil adjusted his fringe with an angry flick of his head, covering his dagger glaring eyes somewhat.

  
Why could he not just be free from the guy? What did he want from them? indignation and anger bubbled in his gut, at the memory of how the Gryffindor had readily thrown him to the side the second his pals had come near. Friendship was not supposed to work that way, he was sure about that.

  
Even though it had been a small thing in the grand scheme of things, and Virgil probably made it bigger than it really was, what Roman did, had made him question himself and his own worth.

  
Memories of remarks about his druidic ancestry throughout the school years, and stinging words about his muggleblood from the druids had flooded his mind in the dark of the night and haunted him in the back of his mind even now.

  
“Don’t eat that! He’s got it send from his family, it’s probably human flesh!”

  
“The Romans should’ve destroyed all druids back then. Then there wouldn’t have been any problems about blood status.”

  
“We cannot let the non-druid take part in the ceremony Alaw, he is not of clean heritage, you know that.”

  
“We’re doing well! I’m keeping an eye on the younger students at the moment, some of them were a bit nervous about coming out here to play with the others, but I said, ‘none of that!’ and pulled them out. It’s important to make friends!” Patton babbled happily.

  
Virgil shook his head, coming back to the reality of the others engaging Roman in their conversations.

  
“We were also discussing politics” Logan interjected.

  
“Politics?” Roman asked, flicking his wand to create another snowball.

  
“Yea! We were talking about the Camelot Crisis, and I told them that I thought it was a wonderful idea, connecting us all as one and no one would be left out or feeling out of place anymore.”

  
Virgil glanced up at Princey. He looked slightly put out, not quite convinced, his gaze shifting between them all. Virgil scoffed.

  
“What’s your opinion your highness?” he drawled.

  
The Prince opened and closed his mouth a couple of times, looking more like a fish than the handsome young man he was supposed to be. Virgil smiled sweetly when their gazes connected.

  
“Ehm” he started slowly. Oh, how Virgil enjoyed him coming down from his pedestal, just for a minute at least.

  
“Well I think that...” Roman shuffled on his feet, looking to the sky instead of at them. “I’m very much against discriminating acts and words such as… you know, the M-word, but I truly don’t think that it would be a good idea to connect with the muggles. We don’t know what would happen if they knew about us. They could try and destroy our world.”

  
The three of them stared at the Golden Prince in silence. Roman would not look at them, instead looking anywhere else than at the wide-eyed expression of Patton.

  
“But… Roman, we are not different at all! I thought you liked the stories of Camelot, don’t you think it would be amazing if it became like that again?”

  
“Of course, I like the stories, who wouldn’t? Magic, kings, damsels to save and evils to destroy, it’s a wonderful story but it’s not real Patton! It’s just a myth!” Roman loudly declared, his face pinched in frustration.

  
Is he kidding? Virgil thought to himself, clenching his teeth in annoyance. First the blonde had manipulated him into a false sense of security in their companionship and then thrown him to the side, the second his stupid Gryffindor friends were in the area, discriminating him for him being a druid, and now he said things like that? Granted, Virgil knew that he had provoked Roman to tell them his opinion about it all, but he had never thought that he would be anything but idealistic toward the idea of a united world.

  
Also, the fact that he said that he hated discrimination, but he clearly had a sense of apprehensiveness toward muggles and the muggle world. Pureblooded cowards.

  
Virgil knew that kind of apprehensiveness from his own experience. How it comes from not understanding. How it divides people and make others fearful or hateful toward you. He knew the receiving end all too well and he hated it. He hated them.

  
“-don’t believe in magic anymore, there’s a high chance that they would end up fearing us and what does muggles do when they fear something? They destroy it, simple as that. Merlin have clearly existed, Camelot also since there’s a ruin, but I don’t believe there ever was a place in real life where everyone lived side by side in great harmonic sync. It’s simply not real and we, wizard and witches alike, should not pay for the closemindedness muggles have in their nature.”

  
Before Patton could try changing Roman’s opinion, Virgil stood quickly, squaring his shoulders and ripping his scarf down to make it easier to talk.

  
“Excuse me? What did you say?”

  
Roman stopped short, looking at the others confused, asking for help in whatever he had done, with his eyes. Patton and Logan were watching the both of them, not quite understanding what was happening. With little to no help, Roman turned back to Virgil, shrugging.

  
Did he really just shrug?

  
Virgil scoffed, his glare warming up once more.

  
“Camelot is not a myth, it really happened. It all happened, not just the vanquishing of evils or Merlin’s great magic. It. All. Happened.”

  
“Right, of course” Princey tried to placate, eyes shifting back and forth between the three. “I mean some of it clearly is, like the morals of the stories clearly comes again in later stories and helps in motivating people and a bit of fairytale magic in life is always very uplifting” he said, a nervous laugh escaping.

  
Virgil shook his head in disbelief. The sheer arrogance, he could not comprehend how someone could be this thick headed and not listen.

  
“You really are a clueless moron aren’t you?”

  
“Excuse you?!” Roman protested indignantly.

  
“No, Excuse you Princey!” Virgil snarled, pushing his index finger hard into his chest, making Roman take a small step back affronted.

  
“I’m standing here telling you that it’s a real, historical event that really happened and you got the guts to joke about it being a freaking fairytale? Thanks for that man, you’re so bloody caring about others’ feelings it almost makes me blush.”

  
“Aren’t you overreacting a little bit kiddo?” Patton asked timidly behind him, still sitting on the bench with Logan, watching the exchange between the Gryffindor and the Slytherin.

  
“I believe so as well Virgil. There is no need to attack Roman for something that has been too undocumented to truly know if it was just bard songs of a fantastical kingdom or if it was actual historical events that were retold in various ways, until fairly recently.”

  
Virgil could feel heat flush his face, but the burning anger did not disappear by the others trying to talk him down.

  
“And what do you mean by not caring about others’ feelings? I care! I’m sorry if I said something you don’t agree with or was brash, but you don’t have to act like a brat about it” Roman growled, his own glare beginning to grow strong.

  
“Oh, I feel the care deeply, right here” he clapped his own chest provokingly. “Being bullied by you and your guard dogs really makes my heart swell with happiness, especially after you were pretending that you wanted to be my friend. That’s super. Awesome man.”

  
“Bullied?” Roman and Patton asked at the same time, Patton with surprise and Roman with denial in his voice.

  
“What are we even talking about now?” Logan interjected.

  
“Do you have some things you need to talk about kiddoes? We can go somewhere private and get it all out” Patton suggested softly, starting to steer Virgil away from Roman, but ended up grasping thin air where Virgil’s arm had been, before he stepped forward into the space of the blonde, trying to stare him down even though he was the one looking up.

  
“Do you have something to say Emo Nightmare?” Roman whispered, his minty breath falling on Virgil’s face. His eyes were dark, hardened like mountains still standing tall after millennials of wind trying to knock them down.

  
Virgil stepped up on his tip toes, coming to look him directly in the eyes, not standing down.

  
“You are my eternal problem Princey” he huffed in a whisper. “Always have been, always will be. You are a manipulator Roman, always trying to get everyone to like you even though you are the rottenest person in our whole school.” He snarled when Roman was about to interrupt him, fire in his eyes. “You are despicable. The worst person I’ve ever known and that’s saying something ‘cause I also know Maurice. I can’t even think to understand why everyone doesn’t already hate you, but I guess they’re just too stupidly blind to see behind your false Princey image.”

  
Roman swallowed. His Adams apple bobbing and eyes filled with unshed emotion, mouth a straight, tight line.

  
“I hate you.”

  
“Virgil!” Patton reprimanded loudly, the others standing up, just as Roman turned around and quickly began walking away.

  
He could not walk away yet! He was not finished with him, there were so many other things he needed to let out! He heard the others yell for him, but he did not listen, his head locked in the argument as he ran up to the Gryffindor and yanked him around by the shoulder.

  
Roman looked annoyingly surprised by that, flinching when Virgil was in his face again.

  
“Don’t you walk away from me! You owe me the courtesy to stand and take it like a freaking human being! You’re not above us, you’re not above me!” he yelled, not caring about how the courtyard silenced. “Why can’t you just listen for once you stupid shit?!”

  
He pushed him hard in the chest, wanting a reaction. And a reaction he got.

  
The air left his body as he hit the cobblestoned, icy ground, the Gryffindor standing above him with strong arms falling to his sides from having pushed him. Livid.

  
“I listen! What’s your bloody problem?! You can’t walk around insulting people that doesn’t have the same opinions as you!” Roman yelled, pushing Virgil back a step when he got to his feet. “Just because you’re incapable of getting social cues and act like a normal person, you don’t get to yell lies to my bloody face!”

  
“I don’t lie! I never lie, that’s a thing pathetic losers like you do to further themselves, making up freaking hero personas, not caring about others and- “

  
“There you go again! You know what? Maybe I should just stop caring, because if this is what I get from that- “

  
“You just walked away as if I weren’t there! You left me to go with them! You said you wanted to be my friend, but you let them trample all over me!”

  
“Maybe I don’t want to be friends with a wretched Non-Druid, did you think about that?!”

  
Silence.

  
His fist connected with bony flesh. The next second Roman’s stunned face was gone from in front of him. The golden prince stumbling back clutching his bloody nose.

  
He felt his hands shake, his voice wobbling when he spoke darkly again.

  
“Don’t you dare call me that.”

  
Before he could move to swing another fist, he was tumbling to the ground with a heavy body weighing down upon him. Angry green eyes were flashing down at him. Air. He could not breath. Too much pressure.

  
“You don’t touch him again, you hear me?!”

  
In a flash he was pulled to his feet and pushed hard, making him stumble a few steps back into someone, Logan, holding unto his shoulders with a stoic face.

  
Patton was standing just behind, his eyes wide and shifting between the two fractions of Virgil and Logan, and Maurice and Roman who was being helped up by Freddy.

  
Blood was dripping down his mouth and chin and unto his jacket, from behind his hand that was still holding unto his nose carefully. They locked gazes. Virgil feeling himself tremble with too much emotion.

  
“Do not do anything stupid” Logan told him lowly, clenching his shoulder slightly.

  
“He called me non-druid” he explained, his voice thick and out of control.

  
“That is not enough to break somebody’s nose, let us go in and- “

  
“You heard me Snake?!”

  
Maurice was charging at them. Roman yelled something, his arm outstretched. Logan’s wand flew up next to him. Movement elegant and in control, ready to strike at their opponent.

  
Virgil tensed up, watching the gigantic Gryffindor running toward him at full speed, hatred flashing in his eyes. Everything slowed down, his breathing and heartbeat loud in his ears and electricity pulsing throughout his body, preparing to let out a magical burst. His own arms were coming up, ready for anything but defend. The only thing going through his mind. Attack.

  
He did not care anymore. Maybe he was a non-druid. Maybe he did not get the feeling of community, the sense of belonging, but he still had his magic from his mother, and it was a hell of a lot better than the stupid stick magic Maurice had.

  
In one single heartbeat, his magic flew from him in one solid ring of power, pushing everyone in the courtyard of their feet, making them fall several feet from the epicenter that was Virgil. He felt a sick sense of satisfaction, watching them all fall. Maurice to his back, Roman and Freddy hitting one of the pillars and landing on top of each other.

  
He felt powerful. Electrified. A grin spread on his face, watching them groan and sit up looking at him with apprehension, with… fear. Roman’s hand had slipped, blood was coming from both his nose and temple. He was breathing hard, tear track down one cheek.

  
Something was wrong.

  
Virgil looked around, now hearing the sobbing from some of the younger kids that he had also let fly from his magic. Slowly he looked behind himself, seeing Patton hold unto Logan who had his arm in front of his eyes, shaking his head, not wanting to talk. Patton was looking at him with a mural of emotion. The main one being disappointment. His regular smile far gone.

  
Time came flying back and with that, as if the gods were punishing him, his magic bounced back full force, hitting him painfully all over. It surged to his chest and the paralyzing burning started in his tattoo, making him fall to the ground with a pained yelp.  
As his body seizured, his head became clearer than it had been in a long time.

  
What had he done? This could not be explained as an accident, he had done it all on his own. He had not thought, he would not have done it if he had just thought.

  
His sight was blurry, but he easily found Roman in front of him. Saw his face turn away from him. Saw as he stumbled to his feet and began helping the younger students.

  
He saw Patton, even though he was still disappointed, come to his aid as he tried talking softly to him. He saw Logan sit down beside him, his glasses broken on his face, but still managing to lay his hands upon Virgil’s sides comfortingly and turning him on his side, so he could breathe easier.

  
Virgil choked on his tears. Emotions and pain too stimulating. He had lost control.

  
Before he closed his eyes in shame, he saw professor Sanders step out in the courtyard demanding to know what had happened.

  
This would have been a good time to fall unconscious.

  
That mercy was not meant for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Playlist for The Crest of Merlin - a song for each chapter:
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=x6wMinZPiHo&list=PLFZqzIR8tuAzMAnwsIAYEgwGUyDR-ILG9


	7. Chapter 7

How could he have been so stupid?

  
Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid! Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!

  
Virgil was following close behind the history teacher, not wanting to be too slow and being left behind in the angry dust of the young professor.

  
Patton and Logan were accompanying him on both sides. Patton had a disappointed frown etched on his face, his rainbow smiles not having appeared since the whole fight had broken out. Logan seemed the same, having quickly and easily fixed his glasses with an easy Reparo spell, uttered while they watched as professor Sanders had pulled Virgil’s shameful form off the cold ground.

  
It would be a shame not to mention how Virgil had tried valiantly to become dead weight, until the professor had yelled at him for stalling and that the consequences would only get much worse if he did not have the common sense to corporate.

  
They were walking to the headmistress’ office.

  
His faith would be determined there.

  
Would he be expelled?

  
Where would he live?

  
Would they send him to an orphanage in the muggle world?

  
He had no clue how the muggle world worked! Could he still keep his cat? What about his wand? And would that mean that he was supposed to clean with his hands? What about his magic? What if he lost control again? What about currency? Would his worth become useless? Muggles did not use galleons and such, they used paper money for all he knew.

  
Question after question filled his head, but no matter what he kept thinking that if he would be expelled and lose his second home in a period of just about five months, he would deserve it.

  
His head had been clear. It had not felt like the other times when he had lost control and ran on pure instinct. This had been intentional. He had meant to cast magic that would hurt, not in defense. Offence. Even now… he had a satisfied burning in his chest, a feeling of having overcome one of his dictators. That was the worst part. Virgil did not regret his actions against Maurice. He did not regret punching Roman’s stupid face, his anger still burning like embers.

  
He did regret hurting the others that had played around in the courtyard, minding their own business and having fun in the snow. Mixed between houses.

  
He regretted hurting Patton and Logan, afraid that he had scarred them for life. Regretted that he had not manage to show them even once, how beautiful old magic could be. How when pronounced right, it sounded powerful but melodious. How it was meant as both a force of nature, but also a balance between everything. Life and death. Land, sea and sky.

  
He had shown them a dark force, a storm that could not be contained and would hurt as much as possible.

  
He regretted seeing Roman being terrified of him. The brave, chivalrous and smiling Gryffindor having become a statue for the split second their eyes had met. Blood falling from his head.

  
What had he done?

  
Virgil bit his lip. The taste of iron mingling with his spit.

  
They all stepped up to the giant gargoyle on front of the hidden staircase that would send them to professor McGonagall’s office. Virgil watched as professor Sanders stepped forward, sweeping his hair away from his face before clearly stating the codeword that would gain them entrance.

  
“Main Coon.”

  
“Isn’t that a type of cat?” Patton stage whispered, as the gargoyle stepped to the side and let them unto the spinning staircase that took them up to the door of doom.

  
The room was big and circular, with the desk standing tall and intimidating at the far side, with a couple of steps in front that would be climbed before the plush chairs in front could be accessed. Painting upon painting of old headmasters and headmistresses were looking pointily at the trio as the history teacher marched them inside before turning to close the door behind them all.

  
A cat bed with a fluffy red pillow was sat beside a huge bookcase filled with old tomes of books.

  
Professor McGonagall sat behind the desk, scribbling on a piece of parchment, a black feather in hand. She did not look up as she gestured to the seat in front of her.

  
“Sit.”

  
The professor behind him pushed him gently forward by the back, Patton and Logan staying behind as well, though Logan moved toward the bookcase, his stare coming to rest upon Virgil from time to time.

  
Virgil sat himself tenderly upon the chair. It had a wooden frame, but a wine-red upholstery with a striped pattern. He fidgeted in his seat as he waited for the headmistress to finish her work, her face not indicating once what she was thinking.

  
He could hear one of the others moving around behind him. Probably Patton, Logan was firmly placed by the bookcase and professor Sanders was probably waiting for the judgement as well, ready to take him to pack his things and kick him out of the school.

  
The feather was laid down sharply, intense eyes scrutinizing him from behind her glasses.

  
“Mr. Morgan.”

  
“I am so, so sorry professor! I know it was wrong and I shouldn’t have done it, but I was just so angry, and I was fighting with Roman, which by the way, was not the greatest thing to do and yes I did also hit him, but then Maurice came in and tackled me and tried to pick a fight and then I was like ‘sure I’ll take you on too!’ but please, please! Professor, I don’t have anywhere else to go! Hogwarts is my home, please don’t kick me out, I didn’t mean to hurt anyone! Well except Roman, and Maurice, but I- “  
“Quiet Mr. Morgan! You are not here to tell me everything I already know.”

  
Virgil clamped his mouth shut. He could not believe he just word vomited all over the place. He watched wide eyed as McGonagall straightened further, becoming an imposing figure, the shadows falling to make her even more intimidating.

  
“Hogwarts have had its fair share of violence in its time and every time there have been consequences for that violence. You need to remember that if you take certain actions, certain choices, there are a set of consequences you have to be willing to endure with that. This is what you learn here at this school and that is what will happen now” she told him, her voice clear and sharp. “There are twelve children in the care of madam Pomfrey right now. This is not counting the seven that only had scratches and bruises. At least no one has more than a broken nose or a concussion, which can be easily fixed with potions and rest, and therefore I will not be expelling you from the school.”

  
Pinpricks stung his eyes, his breath escaping him in relief.

  
“But there is a consequence to your actions Virgil.”

  
He felt his heart stutter and was certain his face would be as white as a sheet. Her eyes were hard but there was something akin to regret in them. He felt his chest beginning to burn, only vaguely recognizing the signs that his body needed him to breath.  
“The whole reason for you to go to Hogwarts was to learn control of your magic and to avoid furthering the strain on your mind and body with the avoidance of using it when you were with the druids. You will of course still be able to study it, but I cannot with good conscious let you keep using Old Magic on school grounds” she sighed through her nose. “Mr. Morgan you are from here on and until the end of your Hogwarts career, banned from using Old Magic in all proportions. If you so much as use it in a non-verbal way, you will be taken into the Ministry’s care and you will be expelled and removed from the school at once.”

  
Virgil felt kicked. Starring forward but not focusing on anything. He would not be able to use his magic? How could he do magic at all?

 

“Do you understand?”

  
He nodded slowly, though not understanding at all.

  
He stood when she stood and gestured for him to go. Turning around to see the faces of his friends, watching him carefully walk toward them. Logan’s brow was furrowed, a slight bit of worry shining through his eyes. Patton on the other end had watery eyes, pulling him tightly against him, the moment he was close enough.

  
“It is very unfortunate and if it proves too difficult you can come to my office. It is meant as a consequence, but not so to interfere with your magical studies.”

  
Virgil nodded again, walking with his friends out of the door, waiting for the history teacher to join them.

  
“Professor Sanders can I have a word?”

  
The professor looked perplexed for a second before turning toward them with a small sad smile and a wave. He closed the door, making the staircase begin its descend to the lower ground, where the gargoyle jumped away to let them out again.  
They walked in silence down the corridor. No real destination in mind.

  
Virgil could feel the others’ eyes on him, but no one made a sound. He had a lump in his throat that would not go away, though he fought against it valiantly, trying to swallow it down. He knew the pinpricks had turned to silent, falling tears but he did not care if the others saw. Everything was just falling apart.

  
“What did she mean with ‘strain on your mind and body’?” Patton asked after a while, his voice soft. Careful.

  
Virgil dried away a couple of tears on his cheeks, sniffling a bit before answering with a wavering voice.

  
“As I’ve told you, the druids didn’t really like me, and I guess… I kind of suppressed my magic when I got old enough to know what the things they said about me meant” he said, sighing heavily. “My grandma tried really hard to make me use my magic, just in small bursts, but I just… I shut down and decided that it wasn’t worth it. I got really sick, after a long while with keeping it all in, and somehow the Ministry got involved because I was developing into an obscurial case.”

  
He did not want to look at the others, he did not need their pity and did not want it. A cold hand landed comfortingly on his shoulder, clenching slightly.

  
“I am glad that you got help Virgil. Obscurial cases mostly ends up with deadly repercussions.”

  
“I know” he said. “I hated my magic for a while but… I don’t know how to live without using it now.” His voice broke awkwardly at the last word and he fell silent again, scuffing at the ground as they kept walking.  
“It is very unfortunate, but I am sure we can find a way to convert you somewhat to the newer form of magic. It cannot be too difficult don’t you think?”

  
Virgil shrugged, not trusting his voice at all.

  
“Even if it’s difficult, we will definitely be there to help you kiddo” Patton said, still holding Virgil’s hand as he had since they began walking away from the hidden office. “I’m not a big fan of that bursting magic you’re doing once in a while, but I’m sure Old Magic is as wonderful as the new version! Don’t you worry about us being mad, I can tell you right now that we’re not, and I’m including Logan in that of course.”

  
Logan grunted on Virgil’s other side, grumbling something about not being able to hide anything when Patton was in the vicinity.

  
He felt a shaky smile coming to his lips, Patton immediately sensing it and squeezing his hand.

  
“He’s smiling Logan! I’ve always told you, you’re the funny one!”

  
A suffering groan escaped the Ravenclaw and Virgil could not stop the small laugh that escaped him. Patton kept poking fun at the nerdy part of their trinity, with Logan beginning to snark back at him and Virgil huffing in laughter, his tears forgotten as they dried on his cheeks.

  
The smile and laughter had been long gone the last couple of days.

 

 

  
Jake and the others had of course heard about what had happened in the school yard. Heck, the whole school had heard about the school yard incident.

  
They had started teasing him about it when they entered their dorm that evening, asking if they would have to move to another dorm, go to another House or if they could just kick Virgil out since he was the one that endangered them all.

  
They kept asking about his punishment, trying to guess what it was and clearly not understanding why he still was there. He could have killed someone, they kept remarking as if he did not already know that. They even followed him into the bathroom, Virgil beginning to shake with repressed anger and breath beginning to hitch in his throat.

  
As Henry stepped into his face to mock him further, his cookie breath falling unto his cheek when Virgil turned away from him, he was suddenly yanked by the arm away from Virgil and almost thrown out of the bathroom, Jake barking order for them all to stop behaving like children and knowing when enough was enough.

  
He had watched the other Slytherin huff and puff at their dorm mates, before glancing briefly at Virgil, his ice blue eyes narrowed, and closing the door after himself.

  
Now he was sat at the Slytherin table at the Thursday lunch, moving his forgotten sandwich around on his plate and feeling the stares that kept falling on him from all around.

  
He knew people were talking about him behind his back, that was nothing new. The new thing though, was the anger. The fear. And how they all avoided him, even in the classes where they had to pair up. If it was not in a class where Patton was, he had, had difficulty in finding a partner the first two days, though Jake had stepped in afterwards and begun pairing up with him each time, abandoning the other Slytherins he would usually go for.

  
Even now the older Slytherin had placed himself in front of Virgil, eating his own sandwich and shielded him from most of the stares with his broad shoulders. Virgil had looked confused at him the day before, only getting snarked back at when he had been caught staring.

  
Virgil shifted his sandwich again, glancing back up at the Gryffindor table his eyes kept steering towards. Roman was smiling slightly at his friends, his head held up by his hand while he stirred in a plate of soup. His nose looked healed, not a scratch to be seen and no weirdly bend shapes.

  
He sighed and looked down again.

  
Patton had told him that he thought they needed to apologize to each other, and the quicker the better, if they wanted to keep their friendship. He frowned and looked up at Roman for the umpteenth time that day.

  
Did he want to be friends? Again?

  
The Prince was talking, one of his arms swinging around for emphasis.

  
Anger started burning in his gut again and he quickly looked away, huffing to himself and his eyebrows drawn downwards. Now was not the time to think about that. It would be better at a time when the idiot was nowhere near him for him to hear his stupid voice and see his stupid, pretty face.

  
He felt somewhat guilty for having hit him in the face, but Roman could have stopped himself before calling him that… that… word!

  
“Hey!”

  
Virgil jumped, looking up startled and seeing Jake watching him irritated, gesturing to Logan who was standing behind him.

  
“Someone’s been talking to you, get a grip will you?!”

  
“Right.”

  
Virgil stood quickly and gathered his things, ready to leave with his friend.

  
“Hey druid-boy, take your sandwich! I don’t want to see anymore disgusting ribs on that body.”

  
Virgil felt himself getting exasperated with the other, who was now ignoring him again.

  
Really?

  
With a groan, he took the stupid sandwich with him, marching ahead of Logan and out of the great hall. What was with everybody? Could these days soon be over?

  
“Why was he talking about your ribs?” asked Logan as soon as they walked up the grand staircase.

  
“I’m naturally on the thin side, and he’s just a salty moron most of the time” Virgil answered a bit miffed still. They slowed down and stopped by one of the windows in the long corridor. The sky was grey with clouds, snow swept away from the roofs with the wind.

  
He took a bite off his sandwich and turned to Logan.

  
“So, what’s going on?”

  
“Professor Flitwick would like to meet us after classes in his office” Logan told him, his face serious. “He wants to talk about the box and he did not seem that overly excited.”

  
Virgil hummed.

  
“Maybe it wasn’t a very good treasure that was in there.”

  
Logan hummed in confirmation.

  
“Perhaps.”

 

 

  
The three of them entered the charms teacher’s office right after classes that afternoon. They had gotten Patton in on the meeting, when Virgil had the shared herbology class with him and was met with instant excitement at the prospect of figuring out what was inside the mystery box.

  
He was not alone though. Virgil felt the bubbles of excitement flutter around in his stomach. How could a small thing like opening a stupid box be so fulfilling?

  
“Ah! Hello, hello! Come on in everyone. Sorry for the mess!” the bubbly professor greeted them, walking around his overfilled desk and maneuvering around a small mountain of parchments and books on the floor.

  
There were trinkets and pictures everywhere. Mostly paintings of lovely landscapes and renaissance portraits, one painting filled with dancing witches, their long gowns flowing through the air. A tea set was damping on the desk, four cups filled with greatly smelling liquid flying toward them all, until they took a hold of them flying in the air in front of them.

  
“Accio Mr. Morgan’s box.”

  
The little box flew from a small shelf behind the desk and into the hands of the professor. The three students came closer, wanting to see the difference and to see what was inside.

  
Professor Flitwick gave them a small regrettable smile.

  
“I must say this was some intricate spell work, I’ve been trying to crack it the last couple of days, but alas to no avail” he told them, given the box back to Virgil.

  
Virgil tried opening it, almost cracking his nail in his eager. It was still freaking closed.

  
“I can tell you this much, that there are two spells on it. One is clearly a locking charm, but it does not react to any spell I’ve tried and the other is what I believe to be a type of blood spell.”

  
Virgil stopped fiddling with the box halfheartedly and looked down at the professor at the same time Patton looked up from his investigation of a closed glass jar with flying flower petals inside.

  
“A blood spell?” asked Logan.

  
The professor nodded and pointed to the box.

  
“Yes, it’s a sort of spell that was usually used for very expensive or important personal belongings, in an effort to keep others from taking what is being protected. Often times family ties are seen as more trustworthy, therefore it would only be those that had blood ties that would able to gain access” Flitwick told, then shrugging. “Anyway, that’s as much as I could gather after talking with professor Sanders.”

  
“Professor Sanders?” Virgil was confused. “What does he have to do with anything?”

  
The professor took out his wand, mumbling a small spell and touched the box twice with the edge of the wand.

  
Golden strings crisscrossed all over the box, crackling like fire crackers and giving off sparks from time to time.

  
“This is as far as I can get to open it, so I went to the other teachers asking what they thought of it, and professor Sanders thought that maybe it could be spell work from a couple of centuries ago since it’s an heirloom. We figured out the types of spells, but we can still not open it.”

  
His first thought was how great it was that his personal item was being shoved at different people without his consent, the next was the infuriating feeling of disappointment. Even though they could all clearly see the magical shackles upon the box, they were still unable to open it.

  
Logan came over and traced the golden lines with his fingertips.

  
“But if the spells cannot be undone, does that mean that perhaps there is a locking charm connecting the two spells? It could prove more efficient if they were locked together” Logan explained, removing his fingers again.  
Flitwick regarded him with a thoughtful expression.

  
“That could of course have been a possibility, but as you see, I was able to get a reaction out of the spells surrounding the box. The problem is that these spells does not react to the spells we have already tried, or the magic as a whole if I’ve tried connecting further with the spell work. Even just the locking charm.”

  
Virgil watched as Logan’s brow furrowed, unimpressed with the situation, as he hummed thoughtfully.

  
Maybe he was just meant to have the box, not what was inside. It was a bit disappointing, especially when he knew there was something in there. Either way it was a part of his family history, a small trinket his grandmother had wanted him to have. And if this was what he could get, Virgil could not complain.

  
“But what if it’s Old Magic?”

  
Everyone looked sharply at Patton, standing next to Virgil with a somewhat insecure smile and shifting feet.

  
“Old Magic?” Flitwick inquired. Patton nodded his head slowly, looking briefly at Logan and Virgil.

  
Logan adjusted his glasses. Listening.

  
“Yes. Virgil’s a druid and it’s his heirloom right? So, wouldn’t that mean that the spells are done with Old Magic?”

  
Everyone quieted down.

  
Flitwick looked thoughtful, stroking the ends of his beard.

  
Virgil felt stupid for not thinking of that before, his ears and neck felt warmer. Of course, the books in the library would not help when the spells came from Old Magic and would be done with the Old Tongue, not the Latin one!

  
He smacked his forehead hard. Stupid!

  
“You’re a genius Patton.”

  
Virgil removed his hand and looked to Logan who had spoken breathlessly.

  
He looked shell-shocked.

  
Patton was smiling brilliantly, his freckles disappearing as his face grew redder by the second.

  
“Well… I was just waiting for you to see that.”

  
With another flashing smile Patton turned to Virgil, ignoring Logan’s spluttering all the while.

  
“So, we’ll just find the right spells in Old Magic right? How does it work?”

  
“That seems plausible yes, but I can’t help you there unfortunately” Flitwick answered before Virgil could gather his thoughts.

  
How stupidly simple, it was almost too good to be true… however-

  
Virgil groaned.

  
“I see a couple of problems with this.”

  
The others looked curiously at him.

  
“I’m banned from using Old Magic here remember? Which, by the way is really awful. Plus! I have only been taught like three spells in the Old Tongue, and everything else I do is nonverbal. The druids didn’t want to teach me.”  
Patton gasped at that, immediately reaching out for him, until he was stopped by Logan cursing loudly.

  
“Merlin’s bloody balls! Of course. Another set back! With this pace it will never be opened!”

  
Virgil almost felt guilty watching Logan pace around the office, opening and closing books at random, with Patton following him, miffed or slightly insulted, with his eyes. Virgil was just about to walk over to calm the Ravenclaw down, when Flitwick cleared his throat and spoke loudly over Logan’s grumblings.

  
“As I’ve heard of it, your ban was only on school grounds, correct?”

  
“Yea?” Virgil answered, slightly perplexed.

  
Flitwick gave them a sly smile, his face contorted in a way none of them thought him capable of.

  
“Do you have a Hogsmeade permission by any chance?”

 

 

  
Most of Friday and half of the weekend was spent with Patton glowing with a new kind of shine to him, that Virgil thought to be a new sense of confidence, courtesy of the slight ego boost from Logan that Thursday.

  
Logan was trying to uncover where they could get info on the Old Tongue spells, or more specifically Anglo-Saxon spells since that was the language of the old. He was even going as far as asking professor Sanders, who promptly had told him that he could not help students with that, due to the ban of Old Magic for Virgil. And because of the fact that he was pretty confident in his suspicion of this having something to do with Virgil himself and he did really not want to get into trouble with professor McGonagall.

  
Logan had then proposed, or forced them, to use another Saturday in the library. Not that Virgil had anything better to do and Patton was just happy to be able to spent time together.

  
They had sat there since morning, only leaving for lunch and later dinner, which they had just came back from.

  
Patton was writing an essay on ghosts and the afterlife for Divination, Logan was roaming the library somewhere, looking for more books that was either written in Gaelic, Celtic or was from before the 9th century at least, and Virgil himself had just finished a Potions quiz he had failed in the last class.

  
It was a calm silence.

  
The sound of murmuring from somewhere in the library and the scribbling of their feather quills on parchment, was accompanied with almost silent steps from the other students that looked for information for their homework or something extracurricular.  
Virgil breathed in the smell of dust and musty, old books, trying to calm himself down further, readying himself for the next discussion with Logan, about the difficulty in finding old spells and the fact that even if they found a book with it, only with boat loads of luck, he still had not been taught in using that kind of magic.

  
The discussion was bound to happen.

  
They had, had it four times that day already, with Logan being stubborn about knowledge being able to be achieved no matter what, and Virgil just being an overall pessimist yet apparently the only rational one in that discussion, since Patton had raised his hands and said he did not want any part in it, the second time they had tried dragging him into it and over to each their own side.

  
The box was sat prettily in the middle of the table, newly waxed an hour or so ago, courtesy of Patton and his procrastination.

  
“Have you talked to Roman yet?”

  
The calm and content mood plummeted drastically.

  
“No” he answered curtly, scribbling furiously on his parchment, indenting the words firmly on the page.

  
“I mean…” Patton started, his voice soft, almost a whisper. “I know he said some really awful things and he shouldn’t have done that, but I think it would be better if one of you just apologizes so you can talk calmly about it all. There must have been something that set you both off.”

  
“Why can’t Princey apologize then? I’m not the only one who did something wrong.”

  
“You admit you were wrong then?” Patton smirked.

  
Virgil glared back, before answering the next question in his quiz with a huff.

  
“Virgil” Patton sighed. “I know you want to talk to him, I can feel it!”

  
Virgil laid down his quill, glaring angrily at the Hufflepuff.

  
“Would you just let it go? We’re not going to be friends again. Hell, we never even were to begin with, so would you please stop pestering me about it? Roman has enough in himself and his stupid goons and fangirls anyway, so why should we matter?”

  
“Of course we matter!” Patton exclaimed. “He’s our friend and we’re his friends too whether you like it or not. I’ve talked to him about apologizing too, but you know how prideful he can be… that’s why I thought that maybe you would be easier to persuade to do it” he admitted, his hand stretching back to rub his neck underneath the thick curls.

  
He snorted at that. Of course. Roman had refused to apologize and then Virgil would have to do it. This was getting ridiculous, why should he have to do it? Why did it matter? Patton could be friends with whoever he liked, but Virgil would be damned if he would be forced to be friends with that prick without wanting to.

  
He felt indignation built in his gut, the heat unmistakable.

  
It just was not fair. Roman was the one who bullied him. The one who wanted to be friends and then dropped it straight to the ground when his real friends saw them. He was the first one outside of the druidic society who called him a… a non-druid. But he was also the one who carried him back to the infirmary. The one who tried to make him smile by engaging in stupid, snarking conversations. Fetch also liked him.

  
“I know your emotions are conflicting and it’s really confusing, believe me I can tell. But I can also feel which direction is the one you’re really meant to take if you want to follow your heart” Patton spoke. “I know you don’t want to be angry with him Virgil.”

  
He was about to answer when Logan came around the corner with no books in sight. He collapsed into his seat, slamming his head into the table harshly.

  
“You okay kiddo?” asked Patton, stroking the back of the Ravenclaw, completely forgetting everything about the conversation they had just had.

  
“I cannot find anything Celtic. There is nothing in here and I know I have looked everywhere!” the Ravenclaw complained, not straightening from the table at all. His shoulders had slumped down, and his nose and glasses squished by the weight of his own face and the table top.

  
“I told you so” Virgil could not help to sing song.

  
This had all been a waste of time and felt more like they had been doing it for Logan, not really caring about getting the box opened any more. He began slowly packing his things into his shoulder bag, blowing gently upon the drying ink on his parchment.

  
“It cannot be possible that there is no way to learn about this! I am very disappointed in the teaching staff, I should probably file a complaint of some sort due to them not having the resources to seek this kind of knowledge” Logan muttered to himself.

  
“Well Lo, if we can’t find anyone here to teach us, shouldn’t we look outwards then? Virgil don’t you know someone we could contact?” Patton asked, his eyes willing Virgil to corporate. Logan’s head changed direction, his eyes coming to rest upon Virgil as well. They were red rimmed and tired looking, much like they had been strained for too long and the Ravenclaw had begun scratching at them.

  
Guilt bubbled in his stomach again. He had completely given up on their quest even though it was he who had started it and Logan had ferociously kept going, wanting to uncover the mystery of the box. They had helped him out and he had just been sitting there slacking off, when Logan had been running ragged and Patton had been there to give moral support.

  
He looked to the box, sitting there inconspicuously, not really seeming like a grand mystery or anything special, but his friends had wanted to help him from the start. They had to finish it and he knew exactly who he wanted to contact.

  
“We can send a letter to Elethea of the Amesbury Clan. I don’t know if she’ll answer, but she’s the only one I think would be willing to help us out.”

  
A small tired smile spread upon Logan’s face, his eyes glittering behind his thick framed glasses.

  
“A druid… that makes sense.”

  
Patton smiled proudly at the two of them, still stroking the back of Logan comfortingly.

 

 

  
The paper kept crinkling against the small book he had leaned against his legs, as he finished the letter he was to send to Elethea with a school owl the next morning. his name finishing the page with a flourish most people probably did not believe he could do, with sharp swirls and extravagant twists.

  
A sigh escaped him as he finally leant back against his pillow, resting his tense muscles. It had taken a long time writing the letter, the others in the room already asleep and the rest of the room dark except for the small candle he had lit upon his bedside table.

  
The conversation with Patton kept coming back and it made him restless, his feelings shifting his mood every five minutes. Sometimes he could see the logical parts of why he should be apologizing. He could also see why he was in the wrong, but then he would remember all of the instances where Roman had just been the biggest dumbass he had ever met, and he would become angry again.

  
Just like now.

  
Virgil groaned angrily, hammering his head against the pillow furiously.

  
The sound of a duvet being thrown and feet walking loudly on the cold floor made him stop and looking to his left, thinking that he had woken someone up with his aggravation.

  
A shadowy form stood next to his bed, scaring the anger right off of him. The figure grabbed his own duvet and threw it to the side before climbing into his bed, making Virgil skootch to the far side of the bed, eyes wide and mouth trying to work words of scandalization out from his brain.

  
“Close your mouth, you look stupid” Jake hissed at him, throwing the duvet over himself and waving his wand in circle above them.

  
“Occultare Silentio” the murmured spell gave a short, soft, blue glow upon the tip of the wand and a blue, glasslike wall shielded the bed for a couple of seconds before it disappeared.

  
Jake threw his wand toward his own bed next to Virgil’s, making it land without a sound upon the tangled bed sheets.

  
When the blond Slytherin turned his irritated eyes to him, Virgil became painfully aware that Jake was shirtless. In his own small double bed. He quickly looked down, watching as he picked at his duvet, ignoring the glare from the other.

  
“I’ve made sure that the others can’t hear us, and you’re going to tell me what the bloody hell is wrong since you can’t let me sleep for five stinking minutes with your stupid heavy breathing and freaking groaning. If I hadn’t shared a room with you for the better part of five years I would think you were doing stuff you aren’t supposed to do in a room full of sleeping guys.”

  
Blood rushed quickly to cover his face and neck in red at the implication. He had not thought of how he sounded, he was just angry. Stupid Roman getting him into trouble again.

  
“So? I would like to go to bed at some point tonight.”

  
Virgil huffed, looking up but still avoiding eye contact.

  
“Why do you care?”

  
There was a pause, the only sound being both their calm breathings. He saw Jake’s bare arm rise up, not thinking anything of it before Jake flicked him on the forehead, surprising him enough to look up.

  
“I care about my sleep, I just told you that halfwit” the blond huffed, the golden light of the candle making his blue eyes spark. “Is it because of what happened in charms? You can’t fault yourself that, it can’t be easy getting used to use your magic in a different way.”

  
That was something he did not want to remember. Virgil rolled unto his back with a groan, a softer one though. He could feel Jake shift as well, the bed dipping slightly.

  
“It’s not that.”

  
Flashes from the disastrous lesson came to him. Pictures in his mind from when the spell they were learning, Herbivicus, kept backfiring on him as he tried to make the flowers in front of him bloom, but ultimately ending up killing them or at one-point setting fire to one while still making it grow above his head, almost succeeding in setting fire to himself and Jake that had been sat next to him.

  
Everyone had laughed, and he did not manage to get the charm right even once.

  
He cringed at the sounds of their laughter as he had tried to control the burning flower, which then had promptly turned into professor Flitwick having to save Virgil’s hair from burning off his head.

  
A finger poked his side, tickling him a bit.

  
“What is it then?” Jake whispered, his voice softer.

  
“I’m just angry at Roman Ayers” Virgil huffed, deciding to share since the whole scenario with Jake seemed weird and surrealistic anyway.

  
“The Golden Prince?”

  
Virgil moved his head to look at the other, almost snorting a laugh at the clear disgust mixed with confusion on his face.

  
“He’s the reason I got the ban on my magic in the first place” he started telling instead, looking up at the roof of his bed. “We were fighting in the courtyard. I don’t even remember about what, everything I guess? We had been hanging out a couple of times and then suddenly I’m just another Slytherin when the other stupid Gryffindors were there and he… called me something and I just freaking punched him! Broke his nose I think.”

  
A small huff came from Jake and Virgil smiled shortly before a frown appeared.

  
“I hurt a lot of people” he whispered, mostly to himself. “I understand why I got the ban, I’m too dangerous. Patton’s probably right. I should be the one to apologize to Roman, I was the one who started the whole fight to begin with and he don’t know what it means to call someone… that.”

  
“What did he call you?”

  
Virgil looked back at Jake, their eyes connecting for the first time since Jake crawled into his bed. The question had been soft. Inquiring. A need to understand and to show support.

  
His eyes burned, but nothing fell. He swallowed around the lump in his throat.

  
“Non-druid.”

  
Jake took in his face and Virgil let him. Their expressions not changing, not wanting to show their thoughts to the other. A long sigh escaped the other after a minute or two, Jake twisting to lay on his back and starring up.

  
“I’m not going to say that you should apologize, but if it would give you peace of mind I think you should at least try and talk to him. If he doesn’t want to talk to you, or hear what you have to say, then he’s as much of a moron as I’ve always thought he was and you would be better off without him anyway” Jake told him, he glanced back at Virgil. “If he doesn’t know what that word means, and I’m guessing that it’s like saying mudblood with the way you’re reacting, you should probably tell him about that too. You can’t know what you did wrong if you don’t know what it means.”

  
Virgil nodded slowly, feeling his eyelids becoming wet as he closed his eyes.

  
The bed dipped again before evening out, the duvet shifting closer to himself. He heard the sound of feet on the floor, a breath of air blowing out the candle and then the creaking of a madras and the shifting of a duvet before silence and darkness reigned the room once more.

  
Virgil was half asleep when he tried thanking Jake for giving him peace enough to sleep.

  
The only response he got was a small laugh and a whispered goodnight.

 

 

  
He could do this, he would do it. It was the only right thing to do.

  
He kept psyching himself up as he walked down the big lawn in the direction of the quidditch pitch. Patton had told him that Roman would be there. Virgil had almost turned back at the mention of quidditch, since it would clearly mean that the Gryffindor team was playing, and he did not need that kind of attention to the coming catastrophe this would become.

  
Patton had caught his arm and turned him toward the doors to the outside, stating that Roman was there alone, that he liked to train by himself sometimes to clear his mind. That did not seem like the right time to talk and Virgil told the Hufflepuff as much, but Patton had only laughed and pushed him outside before he could run away to the dungeons.

  
Now Virgil was ready to say his last prayer for the gods, knowing that the sweetness of death would soon kiss his lips and take his soul to Avalon. Or maybe he was just being dramatic, and nothing would come of it.

  
He squared his shoulders and strode through the door and into the hall where the locker rooms were on each side. Each door having the specific color schemes of their respective houses. The door to the Gryffindor locker room was slightly ajar and Virgil knew that he had to keep walking until he got out of the hall and through the opening that would take him out unto the pitch.

  
He stood in the opening for a bit, marveling at the snow-covered ground, where only a tiny line of footsteps could be found, clearly showing the place where the players were taking off.

  
He looked up nervously, trying to spot Roman in the grey sky.

  
Patton had been right. There were literally no one in the sky except for one, but they were wearing the wrong colors. He could see the blue and grey colors clearly as they made a spiral through the air and hit an incoming bludger, making it soar toward the rings on Virgil’s right. The bludger flew over the one to the left, where a figure was sitting lazily, leaning against the ring with their broom in one hand, before turning back toward the middle of the pitch and the Ravenclaw flew to hit it once again.  
The figure in the right ring had the true colored robes he was looking for. Red and gold. That had to be Roman, but who was the other?

  
The Ravenclaw hit the bludger with a smack making it fly just above Roman’s ring again, before the beater discovered Virgil standing on the ground, having left the security of the shadows at the opening and stepped a couple of steps into the snow-covered pitch.

  
The Ravenclaw began descending, landing a couple of steps from Virgil himself. He righted himself, swinging the bat as he looked straight at Virgil, a frown marring his boyish face. He was long-limbed. Could not be more than a third year if he were to guess.

  
His face was filled with freckles, not just strewn across the bridge of his nose and his cheeks, but in the whole face and as much of his neck as Virgil could see. Familiar chocolate eyes watched him intensely but with a bit of arrogance to them. His hair was strawberry blond and windswept from flying around the pitch.

  
“Your that Slytherin aren’t you? Roman’s not in the mood.”

  
Virgil looked down briefly at his own clothes. He was not wearing his school robes, but the scarf gave him away quickly anyway.

 

“I guess I am” Virgil stated. “Who are you?”

  
The Ravenclaw straightened himself, standing taller yet they were still at the same height.

  
“I’m Remy Ayers and I’m telling you to leave my brother alone or you’re gonna force me to send the bludger flying near the ground next time” the third year threatened, spinning his broom in his hand.

  
Virgil followed the flying ball in the air as it swept across the pitch above them. He gulped slowly yet bracing himself against what he had to do. This talk was long overdue, and Patton would never let him forget it if he chickened out because of Roman’s little brother.

  
“Listen. I have to ta-talk to Roman about what happened, I-I’m… going to apologize since it’s my fault” he bit out the last part, avoiding the intense eyes of the Ravenclaw. That had not been as bravely eloquent as he had hoped he could say it, but he felt a bit intimidated by the other.

  
Remy hummed slowly, looking up toward the Gryffindor that was ignoring them, swinging his legs in the air.

  
Virgil’s jacket was suddenly clasped in a tight grip and Remy was hissing in his face, eyes glaring.

  
“If you fuck this up I’m going to beat you to a puddle with my bat, drag you to the forbidden forest and feed you to the arachnids myself. You understand?”

  
Virgil nodded quickly, feeling relieved when Remy let him go and called up to the right ring as he walked toward the locker rooms.

  
“I’m gonna head back! You’re gonna clear it all up, alright?”

  
Virgil watched him disappear into the shadows, leaving him alone with Roman. Though the Gryffindor seemed to be ignoring him, choosing instead to keep sitting in the ring high above the ground.

  
He huffed a bit annoyed, shifting on his feet before starting the trek to end of the pitch, needing to get closer to the blonde. The snow crunched underneath his shoes as they disappeared up till the end of his ankles in the frozen water.

  
Dread was pooling in his stomach as he looked up, having to bend his neck to see Roman above him. He had not moved an inch, which began to piss him off, mingling with his nervous energy it made him jittery and he hated that.

  
“Roman!”

  
The Prince glanced in the other direction.

  
“Hey! I don’t want to fight you, but I damn well will if you keep acting like a freaking brat! We need to talk!”

  
“What if I have nothing to say to you?!” he yelled back scathingly.

  
Virgil gritted his teeth. They could not keep yelling at each other as he tried to force the conversation, half the castle would be bound to hear it.

  
“You don’t really have a choice! Get down here, I’m not going to destroy my throat trying to speak to you!”

  
Roman did not answer. Virgil crossed his arms and cocked his hip as he kept looking up. Waiting. After a minute Roman groaned annoyed and stood in the ring, keeping his balance easily as he stepped up on one of the stirrups on the broom, before descending in an elegant, vertical line to the ground right in front of Virgil.

  
He was looking straight at him, his beautiful chocolate gaze not wavering once. Virgil hid his face in his scarf, knowing that the coming blush would be easily seen on his cold, pale face. He heard a scoff and looked to Roman through his eyelashes. The Gryffindor had crossed his arms, fidgeting a bit on his feet but still watching him.

  
“Did you have something to say or what?” he asked, voice gruff.

  
Virgil breathed in, closing his eyes for a second. He could smell Roman’s intoxicating musk from here. This was it. He had to do it. He just hoped it would not end badly.

  
“I…” he cleared his throat, trying again.

  
“I’m- Ehm… The thing is, this whole thing… no, what I me-mean is I’m- “he sighed harshly through his teeth, looking into Roman’s patient eyes.

  
And then he knew.

  
This did not have to be difficult. He wanted Roman to look at him, to smile at him and laugh with him again. He wanted Roman, not the popular Prince persona, to be there for him, ready to run after him like he did so many months ago at the quidditch game. He wanted the heroic Gryffindor, the musically inclined violin player, the goofy guy that Roman was. He did not want to be angry with him. He was not angry, he was scared. Scared of losing the thing they had been building slowly together, what they had built and what Virgil came to believe in this instance, perhaps could become much more.

  
“I’m sorry Roman” he whispered.

  
Roman uncrossed his arms but was still standing too far away.

  
“I know I pushed you to fight with me and I’m sorry about that. I said a lot of really terrible things to you and I know you’re not like that I just was so angry and confused. You confuse me endlessly” he laughed self-deprecatingly. “I know we’ve already talked about this, but I just don’t understand what you want with me. I mean… I can’t be good company and you already have Maurice and Freddy and all the other popular ones at school, what could you need me for? I’m a pessimist, a loner that hate people and I give up way too quickly before things even gets hard, I’m just… not worth it and I’m sorry.”

  
Something warm clasped around his cold hand, surprising him. Roman’s right hand was holding his own in a gentle grip, his thump caressing the back of his hand.

  
“I don’t think you’re all that and I’m… I’m sorry too if I’ve made you feel like that. Which I probably have since you blew up on me” he said, cracking a small crooked smile. “I’m sorry Virgil.”

  
They looked into each other’s eyes, Virgil feeling pinpricks starting.

  
“We should… Ehm, there was some things that was said in the heat of the battle that I think we should talk about.”

  
His hand was squeezed gently.

  
“If it’s about my nose then everything is in order” Roman declared, proudly showing off every angle of his handsome feature. “It looks good right?”

  
Virgil snorted at that, smirking halfheartedly.

  
“It’s not crazy bent if that’s what you mean.”

  
Roman huffed indignantly, though the smile was still on his lips. Virgil was tugged along as Roman began trudging through the snow slowly. Their hands still clasped together, Virgil was very aware of.

  
“If it’s not about my nose, and by the way that was a really mean left fist you have there. I swear I saw stars!” Roman exclaimed, smiling teasingly down at him. “Then, did I say something? You have my word that I never intended to hurt you… too much anyway, we were in battle after all.”

  
Virgil gave the hand in his a small, almost unnoticeable squeeze before taking a deep breath.

  
“It’s nothing big, it’s just a word I think you don’t understand” he started.

  
He stopped walking making Roman pause and look back. This was harder than he thought it would be. He thought that the apology would be the worst, but he was clearly wrong. The words did not want to leave his mouth, not even his throat. His tongue kept swallowing the words, forming a lump that was hard to press back.

  
This should not be this difficult! It was just a stupid word, it was nothing it could not hurt him!

  
But it had. That word had hurt him his whole life, it had hurt his grandmother to hear it too, but she was not there to protect him any longer and even though he had been exiled the word still followed him and it kept swallowing him up making him remember all of the pieces in his memory where it had been used to not even mock him but to state the fact that he was not welcome and-

  
“Hey, hey Virgil, take it easy and breathe” Roman’s hands were holding his cheeks, warming his face. His thumbs were stroking up and down, removing the tears that had begun falling without Virgil wanting them too.

  
He hiccupped a breath, closing his eyes and letting a couple more tears fall.

  
“It’s okay, shh… It’s okay” Roman kept repeating, his voice soothing and calm. “I’m truly sorry Virge, what was it I said? Did I call you something?”

  
Virgil nodded, as he valiantly tried holding back his sobs, but they forced their way through his hectic breathing.

  
“Yo-you called me a-a Non… a non-druid” he broke through in a sob or two.

  
It was so stupid. He was a big cry-baby that was all he was. A stupid, non-druidic cry-baby who had no control over his stupid feelings. Gods! Roman must have thought he was a total loser.

  
Arms enveloped him in a tight hug, warmth seeping in through his jacket from the furnace that Roman always was. Slowly, Virgil’s arms came to rest around Roman’s waist and he hid his heck in the neck of the older student.  
“I’m sorry Virgil, I should not have called you that” Roman mumbled into his hair.

  
Virgil hiccupped once before deciding to tell him why it mattered so much, Roman did not even know what he meant but he knew that it had hurt. Rip it off like a band-aid.

  
“It me-means that you’re not seen as a true druid, a-and it the druidic community there is only druids or non-druids, you can’t be both. It’s only one or the other and when you’ve lived in the community you’re whole life and you’re perceived as a non-druid… it’s- you’re not…” he could not keep going. His body started quaking as he still tried to control his sobbing.

  
“I don’t understand” Roman murmured.” The druid leader called you that and you have that tattoo, so why is it so bad?”

  
“I’m not meant to have that tattoo, I don’t know how I got it” Virgil replied angrily. “Taliesin is the leader of the clan that I was part of, but they all know that I’m… a non-druid. It’s basically because I’m only half, it would have been okay if my dad had been a wizard who had converted into the druidic society, but he was just a stupid muggle. He ruined my life.”

  
Roman hummed a tone of confusion.

  
“So, you’re a half-blood? How can that be bad?”

  
“It’s bad when it’s muggle blood mixed with druid blood.” Virgil could not stop the harsh laugh, chilling even himself. “I’ve never been seen as a true druid and especially not after my grandmother died this summer. They exiled me… I don’t have anyone.”  
Everything that had bubbled up inside of him suddenly exploded and he just told everything to Roman, as he was held tightly in the Gryffindor’s arms, his back being stroked gently all the while.

  
He told him about his exile, how he lived at Hogwarts now and how hard it was to not only lose your only family, being denied your ancestry but to also having gotten a ban on his magic that was the only part of him that he should be able to control himself.  
He spoke about how much he hated what the tattoo represented and how he feared the druids wrath if they were to ever find out. He talked about the heirloom, Roman nodding along since he had seen it, about how the teachers had tried helping him open it and now he had to send a letter to one of the druidic leaders, just hoping that she would not let Taliesin know that he had contacted her.

  
He was exhausted when the tirade ended, only then observing that they were swaying together and that big, fluffy snowflakes were falling from the sky.

  
They both looked up. One fell on the tip of Virgil’s nose. Roman brushed it off with a finger, smiling gently at the Slytherin.

  
Virgil knew that he looked awful, red rimmed eyes and a red nose from all the tears and sniffling of snot. He wanted to look away, to hide. But Roman was captivating.

  
“Are you okay?”

  
Virgil sniffled once, righting himself and letting go of Roman’s waist, his arms stiff.

  
“Never been better” he answered, voice hoarse.

  
Roman stroked his back once more before letting go and taking a step back. He already missed the warmth, the cold seeping in quickly.

  
“Do you want me to fly you to the owlery?”

  
What?

  
Roman smirked and shook his broom. Virgil had told him of the letter, he had planned to send it after their talk, not caring if he would end up raging at the owls or if the talk would have ended well.  
“I’m… not much of a flyer to be honest. Don’t like the height and brooms don’t like me.”

  
“They don’t like you?” Roman laughed. Virgil could not help the small snort.

  
“Don’t know if you heard about it, but I was the Slytherin that got literally kicked of an exploding broom in first year practice.”

  
Roman gaped at him. “That was you?!”

  
Virgil began walking to the opening.

  
“I don’t fly let me tell you that much.”

  
Roman laughed loudly as he followed, quickly coming to walk by his side again.

  
“Well, let me just get the bludger then I’ll walk with you. You can borrow Harold, he hasn’t been out flying for a while.”

  
“That crazy owl?!” Virgil exclaimed, watching from the opening as Roman ascended to the skies, flying to catch the zooming ball.

  
“He’s not crazy! He’s just really passionate!” the Gryffindor yelled back, making Virgil laugh out loud. He was happy that he chose to talk to Roman. Patton had been right all along.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Playlist for The Crest of Merlin - a song for each chapter:
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=x6wMinZPiHo&list=PLFZqzIR8tuAzMAnwsIAYEgwGUyDR-ILG9


	8. Chapter 8

December went by in a flash after that.

  
Soon it was the day before everyone would be on their way with the Hogwarts Express to London, ready to go back to their families and celebrate their Christmas holidays away from the school.

  
It was a true Christmas month, the snow had fallen tirelessly the last couple of days, creating a true winter wonderland outside. The castle had been decked with Christmas decorations all over the place, both in classrooms, in the great hall and even along the walls in the corridors.

  
The Slytherins had helped each other in creating a cozy atmosphere with candles, holly and sugar crystals hanging from the ceilings, just for extra effect without clashing with the green, black and silver themes of the common room.

  
That morning had begun like every other. Virgil had not anticipated anything extra ordinary despite the date, so he was very surprised when Jake had flung candy in his face and a quickly mumbled congratulation, before he had managed to wake up fully. There had been a lot of different kinds, from Christmas themed chocolate frogs to foreign sweets based on the candy wrappers.

  
Jake had walked quickly from the room before Virgil could even think of saying thank you, all too distracted by the warm feeling he felt in his stomach that made a smile crack open on his face.

  
Now he was sat in the school kitchen, with a big chocolate pine cone cake, with frosted writing on top, sat in front of him. Half of it was already gone, having been shared among the four of them.

  
Patton had heard about his birthday date somewhere and had gathered them there to celebrate it, surprising Virgil at the same time with small presents from them all.

  
Logan had gotten him the book Le Morte D’Arthur, saying that he knew that Virgil had not read it and perhaps did not intent to do it, but it had been one of the first things they had talked about, so he thought it was an appropriate gift. He had adjusted his glasses and taken another sip of his hot chocolate, ignoring the teasing jabs from Roman about him being sentimental.

  
Patton had given him homemade yarn pom pom letters of I L Y in a mix of bright colors that normally would not be Virgil’s taste, but he could not help feeling a slight buzz of happiness. He had quickly laid them upon his new book in the correct order and given Patton a one-armed hug afterwards. Patton quickly reciprocating by crushing him in his own.

  
And lastly, Roman had given him a cologne, which did not smell cheap. It had a wooden scent, but with a mix of citrus that blended well together and made it smell quite fresh. Virgil had joked if Roman thought he smelled bad since he gave him that kind of gift, succeeding in making Roman flustered and try to explain himself, completely missing the joking undertone of Virgil’s drawling voice.

  
Virgil was sitting silently watching the others talk and laugh.

  
He knew he had a soft smile on his lips, but it did not matter. Patton looked relieved and carefree, he had been so happy when Virgil had told him that Roman and he had talked it out. Logan looked relaxed for once, leaning over the table to better hear Patton on the other side, as Roman laughed loudly.

  
The sound sent shivers down his body, hair surely standing on end on his arms. he and Roman were talking again, yet it was not often and even though Roman understood Virgil’s insecurity in their friendship, Virgil also somewhat understood why Roman could not be seen that often with him.

  
Popularity was a funny thing. Someone without it would think that it was freeing to be loved by so many people, but someone with it probably felt caught. Or that was what Virgil thought, every time Roman leaped away from him when his friends were near, though always glanced back with a guilty face.

  
It was not fun. He always felt a hurtful tug in his stomach when it happened and sometimes he had to be by himself and ignore Roman for a bit before they could be talkative again.

  
Even though the hurt was not as bad as before they had their chat, the feeling did still not mix well with the revelation about his feelings toward the blond, he had found out when they talked and Roman had comforted him. How he had not seen it for what it was, was a deep mystery to himself, yet he hoped he had not been too obvious so that Roman knew about it.

  
The Gryffindor’s voice was nice and low, creating fluttering sensations in his stomach again.

  
Virgil sighed, glancing at the half-eaten cake on his plate, mixing it around with his fork.

  
Fifteen years.

  
Even though he had, had a good day and was in great company, he could not help feeling melancholic at the thought of this being the first birthday of the rest of his life without his family being there. That was just life, but he could not help but feeling saddened anyway.

  
His grandmother and he usually celebrated his birthday at the same time as Alban Arthan, the 21st of December, where they mixed the rituals for the death and eventual rebirth of the sun together with their own birthday ritual, where his grandmother would tell grand legends with a play of fire.

  
Last year she had told the story of Sir Gawain and the Green Knight. It was not one of his ultimate favorites, but he had always loved the character of Gawain, his humility, commitment and self-sacrificing soul was only to be admired.  
“… Going for Christmas?”

  
Virgil zoned back into the conversation, just as Roman answered.

  
“I am just going home. Thankfully we are not going skiing this year, since my father has still not forgiven my mother for pranking him last year with making his ski invisible every time he tried to put them on. It was hilarious though” Roman snorted, making Virgil hide a smile behind his hand.

  
Patton laughed with him though before looking at Logan and Virgil on their side of the table.

  
“What about you two? Are you also going home? Do you celebrate Christmas Virgil?”

  
Logan suddenly started eating his cake to avoid answering the question. Guess he had to do it.

  
“I’m actually just going to stay here, I think the food is going to be great, but no I’m not celebrating Christmas” Roman was about to protest to that, eyes wide with shock. “We celebrate Alban Arthan instead, that’s basically celebrating the Winter Solstice” Virgil made jazz hands. “Pagan.”

  
“You’re… you’re just going to stay here? Alone?” Patton croaked, making both Logan and Virgil look up sharply, not wanting him to cry.

  
“No, I will be here too, it will be easier to practice magic when I do not have rules about the use of magic for minors when I am at home. Do not worry Patton” Logan tried to reassure, but it seemed to backfire since Patton’s eyes began to glisten.

  
“You can’t stay here… it’s a time for family and friends to come together a-and gifts and love and cookies!”

  
“Patton- “

  
“We’re really okay here though, we have each other, right Logan?”

  
“Affirmative. It is not as if we celebrate Christmas all that much ourselves and- “

  
Patton slammed his hands down on the table, making Logan and Virgil jump in their seats and the few house elves that were still in the kitchen look back at them with big eyes.

  
“If I can get my mamma to agree, will you come home with me for the holidays?”

  
The four of them sat in silence. Three of them regarding the resolute expression on Patton’s face, the seriousness something that made them know what the outcome would become either way.

  
Virgil looked to his right, watching as Logan’s own stubbornness wavered, before the Ravenclaw looked down and took the last piece of his cake.

  
“Fine.”

  
Patton’s blue eyes met Virgil’s grey. The eyes of a predator closing in on its prey, passionate fire blazing in them. He had no chance and Patton knew it.

  
“Guess I’ll go too” he sighed. “Better than staying alone In the castle I guess.”

  
The rainbow smile was shining brightly again, and the mood quickly lifted as the nerve-wracking moment ended and Patton turned his beaming smile toward Roman. The Gryffindor actually flinched.

  
“You’re of course welcome too Roman!”

  
“… Maybe I’ll come by at New Year’s” Roman answered meekly, his voice higher pitched than normal.

  
“Sure!”

 

 

  
It was the first time in almost a year since he had been on the train.

  
Patton’s mother had agreed in letting her son bring two of her friends with him, saying that there could never be enough around the table. When he had asked how in the world Patton had gotten a hold in his parents so quickly, the Hufflepuff had explained that when his older sister had gone to Hogwarts, they had gotten help by professor McGonagall in getting a connection to the Floo network, just in case she had to talk to them faster than by letter.

  
Virgil lifted his cat carrier a bit to get a better grip, without making his shoulder bag with his clothes and everything else fall from his back. Fetch yowled from the inside. The cat had never liked driving, the motions tended to make her sick.

  
“Hush Fetch” he whispered, walking close to the compartment doors, when a group of younger Slytherins walked by, in the middle of a heavy discussion about the dueling championship this winter.

 

“She doesn’t sound very happy.”

  
Virgil looked over his shoulder, finding Jake wearing his dark casual clothing and an amused smirk. Virgil hoisted the cat carrier again, Fetch hissing at him all the while.

  
“Well, that’s basically because she isn’t. Never really liked being on fast moving objects” he answered, as the Slytherins walked by and they could continue their own trek, Jake coming up by his side with lazy, long steps.

  
He was wearing a long black coat and his house scarf hung from his shoulders and mixed well with the grey of his shirt. His clothing was classic, yet the boots gave it a boost. It was pretty cool.

  
It was much finer than Virgil’s own, being a black hoodie, black jeans, his black jacket opened up, so he did not die of heat stroke and his black scuffed converse. The only color came from his own scarf that hung from his hoodie pocket, the green and grey the only thing giving way from his shadowed person.

  
“We’re sitting in the compartment up ahead… want to join us?”

  
Jake did not look at him when he asked the question, Virgil almost felt bad for not being able to take him up on the offer. It was not every day the other would invite him to socialize. Well, that was a lie, they had sat together on every train ride except for last summer where Virgil had not been on the train ride. But it never felt like socializing, since he always managed to get the window seat and either kept staring out the window for five hours or managed to fall asleep against it, ignoring his dorm mates’ games and gossip.

  
“Sorry, I’m going to sit with my friends” he told him, hoping that he sounded sincere. “But thanks for the invite though.”

  
Jake scoffed, Virgil pretended not to hear him mumble the word ‘friends’ scathingly.

  
They said goodbye and wished each other a nice holiday, before Jake disappeared into the compartment to the other fifth year Slytherin’s.

  
Virgil walked down the next wagon to the last compartment where he found Patton and Logan playing cards. Patton with a huge smile and Logan concentrating on the game.

  
He put down the cat carrier and opened the compartment, quickly being welcomed with a big and a bit smaller smile by the others before they resumed their game and Virgil got his things in order, letting Fetch out of the carrier after he closed the door.  
He sat down with a deep sigh, watching Fetch jump up next to Logan, the Ravenclaw tensing up and looking at the cat with a grimace for a second.

  
Not a cat person apparently.

  
Patton’s toad, Kermit, was also out, sitting silently by the window seat on Patton’s other side, Fetch watching him intently. Virgil would have to keep an eye on her.

  
“My mamma is going to pick us up in at King’s Cross. It will be a bit over a two-hour drive before we’re home, but I think you’ll love it! It’s a tiny village, my parents have a doctor’s office there and there’s a lot of forests and small creaks everywhere!” Patton told them excitingly, taking two of Logan’s kings.

  
“I am sorry, did you say drive? And do you have any two’s?” Logan’s brow furrowed. Patton told him to go fish and he picked up a new card from the floor.

  
“Yes, she’s picking us up in their car. It’s a Volvo.”

  
Volvo? What in the world was that?

  
Fetch jumped up unto his lap and he began petting her without thought. This trip would certainly be a learning experience of the muggle world. He was not quite sure how he felt about that.

 

 

  
They stood outside of King’s Cross waiting for Patton’s mother to arrive. He had one of those phonetics in his hand, the surface was made of glass and clicking every time he tapped his fingers against it. It was fascinating in a way. There were pictures on it, disappearing when he tapped and then another picture arrived. Virgil thought phonetics were supposed to have buttons though.

  
Patton’s mother was running late because of the traffic. Most of the students had already been picked up by their families, making Virgil a bit jealous by the fact that they were on their way to get some warmth, while his own breath came out in visible puffs.  
He had seen Roman, those pesky butterflies flying around all at once, and his brother greeting a tall blonde woman and an even taller man with a clean-shaven face. The woman had hugged them both equally hard and they had all walked away together, Roman already telling grandly of the first semester of this year, briefly waving goodbye to Maurice and Freddy.

  
Jake had hit the back of Virgil’s head, grinning, when he walked by the three of them together with his posh mother. Virgil had flipped him off with a smirk, before ruffling his hair back in place.

  
“There she is!” Patton jumped in place and pointed toward a smooth looking black car, without any harsh corners to its design. It pulled over next to them and turned off, the front doors opening, and a woman and a girl stepped out of the car.

  
The woman was small but packed in winter clothing, and had dark, thick, curly hair and beautiful green eyes, a big smile greeting the three boys.

  
The girl looked to be twelve or thirteen, had clothing on that seemed too large for her body, her dark jeans ripped in places and flat sports shoes on. Her eyes had the same green nuance and her hair was as curly as her mother’s, though it had the same color as Patton’s and her face was speckled with freckles much like her older brother’s. they looked a lot alike.

  
“Parker! I didn’t think you would come too!” the Hufflepuff quickly made his way over to his sister and hugged her tightly. She reciprocated and smiled before looking at Logan and Virgil as Patton went to hug his mother.

  
“So, you’re the guys” she said, eyeing them up and down, her eyes lingering on Virgil, making him squirm before she clicked her tongue, looking away with red tinted cheeks.

  
“I dig your style, but maybe a bit of color would give you an edge.”

  
He looked down at the black on black.

  
“How can colors give me edge?”

  
“"Parker! Aiutami a mettere i bagagli nella macchina, cosi possiamo arrivare a casa prima di cena. Tuo papa non andrà in quella cucina! ”

  
“But mamma!”

  
The woman clapped in her hands and the girl, Parker began grudgingly to pull their bags into the back of the trunk. Patton tried to help but got his hands smacked by his sister and he quickly gave up, coming back to the others as the mother greeted Logan with a hug he tensed up at. Then she went and hugged Virgil too, making him tense up as well.

  
Socializing was not their forte at all.

  
She pulled back and smiled at the two.

  
“We’re looking forward to having you in our home for the break! Have you eaten anything on the trip? We can pick something up on the way, but I’m going to be making dinner as soon as we get home, so you have to be hungry for that. I’m Oria Wright by the way, Patton’s mamma, but I’m sure you’ve already figured that out. You can call me Oria or Ria” She told them with the same bright smile as Patton used all the time. It was not difficult to see where he got that from.

  
“I am Logan Montgomery, pleasure to make your acquaintance” his voice was grave, and he nodded properly at her, making her giggle.

 

“So formal, I love it!”

  
“I’m Virgil” he told her, waving slightly because he did not know what to do with himself.

  
“Oh sweetheart, no need to be shy! This is going to be nice” she told him, her voice very warm. “Please get in the car so we can get going. Parker, Patton will sit in the front, so you’ll have to sit in the back with our guests.”

  
Parker almost dropped her jaw, clearly fuming over the decision.

  
“"Ma è così piccolo mamma! Perchè non puo sedersi Patton lì?!”

  
“"Perchè l'ho detto io! Sali sulla macchina, ti siedierai nel mezzo ora!”

  
Virgil bend slightly toward Logan, watching the women bicker all the while.

  
“What are they saying?”

  
“I have no idea, but it sounds like Spanish” he whispered before speaking louder. “I am sure we can all fit. If my memory serves me correct from when I went with the Night bus that one time many years ago, it will expand exponentially when we enter the vehicle.”

  
Virgil watched Patton shift guiltily as he went to sit down in the front seat. There were lots of leg room from what he could see. Parker yanked the back door open and almost jumped into the car, yanking at the belt thingy a few times before it clicked in place.

  
“Sorry guys, muggle transportation is not quite like the night bus.”

  
Logan adjusted his glasses, as he walked over to the back door on the other side. Virgil picked up the cat carrier and went backwards into the car, immediately finding himself crammed. And the door was not even closed yet.

  
“Logan…” he said, looking over at the Ravenclaw as the door closed over there.

  
Logan, looking very skeptical and confused all of the sudden, was squished against Parker, their shoulders almost melted together, and his knees were smashed as much against the front seat as Virgil’s own was, though at least he did not have a cat carrier on his lap and the yowling of a cat that knew it was in a moving object again, blowing her fishy breath in his face.

  
Parker moved her head an inch, too close for him to want to look to the side.

  
“Can you close the door, so we can get home quickly?”

 

 

  
The trip to Castle Combe had been excruciating. Virgil knew that, that would be the last car ride ever if he had anything to say about that. The enclosed space had been way too small, it had smelled funny, and Fetch had puked twice, making them have to stop so that Virgil could clean out the carrier with some snow.

  
Oria had rolled down his window to air out the puke scent, and the fresh, cold, forest air made it much more bearable until they drove into the driveway of a small cottage with straw roof, white walls, blue window panels and a blue front door.  
The snow had been dug away from the driveway and a small path up to the door had been made, making it easier to walk inside without walking through snow halfway up the shins.

  
It was wonderfully warm inside, and they were all quick to remove their coats and shoes and step further inside, Patton showing them the way to his room where they could put their things.

  
The house was like a picture in a Christmas magazine. Everywhere there was tinsel, garlands, lit candles and hanging decorations from every shelf, panel and even the ceiling. Stars, angels and colorful round ornaments. It was breath taken and everything screamed family in the house. There were pictures everywhere, Virgil saw a sibling picture of Patton and his two sisters from what must have been years back, as they walked up the staircase and into the first room to the right, where Patton’s name was spelled out in prime colors on the door.

  
His room was as colorful as Virgil had thought it would be, though it was a lot messier. He had not even been in his room for half a year, and he had to run around and collect all of the clothing that was strewn on the floor before they could come completely into the room, an embarrassed tint to his face.

  
They had finally managed to put their things away and Virgil had let Fetch out, watching as she made a beeline around the room, checking everything out and lastly sat in front of the terrarium where Kermit had been put, lazing about.

  
Logan had asked why they had been speaking Spanish, as they made their way down the stairs again to meet Patton’s father. Patton had laughed at that.

  
“It’s Italian kiddo! My mamma’s Italian and my dad’s English, I’ve told you that haven’t I?”

  
“Nope” Virgil answered to that.

  
“You are Italian?! You do not look like it” Logan exclaimed in disbelief.

  
Patton had shrugged, still laughing to himself.

  
“Well, half Italian. Don’t make me more than I am kiddo!”

  
“Do you speak the language as well then?”

  
They had then entered the warm kitchen, the delicious smell of oregano, spicy meat and a sweet scent of some kind of sauce had spread throughout the room, where Oria was briskly mixing the sauce by the stove and her husband was decking the table, looking up with a familiar smile and big glasses sitting a bit askew on his pink face, sweat hiding behind his mousy hair and in his grey beard.

  
He had hugged Patton and clapped his cheek gently before introducing himself as Harvey, his voice a bit to the lighter side, but nice and gentle.

  
they tried helping out but had been stopped since they were the guests, though Patton quickly got to work at chopping and dicing some salat, the knife cutting quickly and expertly on the chopping board.

  
The dinner had been wonderful, and everything tasted great and spicy. The oldest sister, Paige, was meant to arrive on Christmas day due to her apprenticeship, so they were the only ones in the house at the moment. There were some more Italian, thankfully also some English and then there were chocolate chip cookies afterwards, even though Virgil felt his stomach would burst.

  
They stayed downstairs for a couple of hours, until they all felt too tired to keep talking even though they wanted to. Or in Virgil’s case, just sitting and listening to the voices, while watching the snow fall outside upon the darkened window, hot chocolate warming his hands and getting lulled almost to sleep. He heard them talking about the school, Oria’s job as a doctor and how she shared her practice with Harvey, where he was a mix between her secretary and nurse. They talked about horses at one point, Parker apparently being a competitive rider and Logan was very fearful of the bigger animals, whereas Patton clearly wanted them all to go to the stable the next day to say hello.

  
This really was nice.

  
“Are you two okay down there?”

  
Virgil slipped the comforter over himself, tucking his face into the sweet-smelling blanket. Logan and he were laying on madrassas upon Patton’s carpeted floor, which he had cleared and managed to vacuum before they went to bed.

  
There were colorful travelling posters on the white and baby blue walls, mixed with polaroid photos of people and printed pictures of kittens and puppies all over the place, not really a true pattern to them at all. There also was a shelf next to the door with framed pictures and different animal figures together with a couple of wrinkled picture books. It was very homie and clearly a childhood room.

  
“I am good Patton, the madras is plenty soft and I am looking forward to a good night’s rest” Logan told him, taking off his glasses and laying them up over his head in order to not crush them in his sleep.

  
The both of them looked very different without their glasses. Younger in a way. Patton’s freckles were also easier seen this way, not hidden behind the frames anymore.

  
“I’m just so happy that you’re here! I’ve never had friends over in the break before.”

  
“I am content as well; this situation could have been much worse to be fair” Logan agreed. In his own way. Virgil smirked underneath his blanket.

  
“Well shucks Logan, you don’t have to be so optimistic” Patton laughed, making Logan roll his eyes at him.

  
He rolled over in his bed and looked down at them with squinting eyes.

  
“Are you okay with going to the stable tomorrow? I really want to see Parker ride again, it’s been a while. But we don’t have to go if you’re allergic or just don’t want to, I don’t mind.”

  
Logan sighed through his nose, looking up at the ceiling with the sticky stars lighting up the room.

  
“It is alright, we can go” he said. “But I am probably going to be standing quite a few paces away from the animals, I am not that fond of them to be honest.”

  
Patton gasped loudly, sitting halfway up with wide eyes staring down at them. Virgil was almost certain he had stopped breathing.

  
“You don’t like animals?!”

  
“Not particularly, no.”

  
“Not even puppies?!”

  
“No.”

  
“Logan!”

  
Virgil snickered at the outrageousness in his voice. Even though he did not feel the need to bring his own voice to the conversation, he felt as much a part of it as the others. Their quiet bickering gave him an uplifting feeling in his chest. He wondered to himself if this was what it meant to be truly happy. Even with his grandmother there had always been a wave of guilt and sadness weighing them down, he knew he had been loved dearly by her, but the community had ruined his life even as he lived it with her.

  
“-can go sledding after we’ve been to the stable tomorrow, or maybe go for a walk in the woods? Either way we need to have warm clothing on, otherwise we could become sick and that’s not fun. We can also bake and then we can talk the whole night long every night, especially at New Year’s! I really hope Roman is going to come over, wouldn’t that be nifty? We can play some games and- “

  
Patton’s talking became a low mumble as Virgil felt the safety of the room, the fluttering from happiness and the warmth of the blanket, helped him welcome the darkness of sleep. Closing his eyes, he found himself looking forward to the next couple of days. Especially New Year’s Eve.

  
He could see Roman again.

 

 

  
He could see Roman again.

  
They were standing in a circle of giant blue and white crystals, larger than the both of them together.

  
The blonde was staring vacantly back at him. Virgil tried reaching out, but the Gryffindor flinched and pulled out his wand in a threatening manner toward him. His eyes still vacant. Empty.

  
“Do not touch me villain” he hissed.

  
Virgil felt his heart stop. What was going on? He did not understand. Meek as a scared mouse, he moved a step closer to the other, feeling his heart break further when the wand was lit up in green.  
“Roman?” he tried softly.

  
“How do you know me? Who are you? Step back immediately!”

  
Thunder rumbled loudly above them, purple lightning spreading like spiderwebs around them. Virgil jumped when the lightning fell too close, Roman not stepping out of line once, only keeping his darkened eyes on him.  
“Roman please, don’t mess around this is not funny.”

  
“I am completely serious, whoever you are. Step back right this instance or I will otherwise have to hurt you” Roman growled threateningly.

  
Tears were threatening to fall as he quickly stepped forward again, his chin wobbling with the pieces of his heart that broke in his chest. He felt himself fall against the Gryffindor, his arms wrapping around his neck, trying to hold on as tightly as he could.  
“Don’t touch me!” Roman roared.

  
Virgil closed his eyes as he felt himself being pushed away with one hand, wrenched away from the man his heart for some reason held so dearly.  
The tears fell.

  
“AVADA KEDAVRA!”

 

Virgil was pretty certain that his friends knew that something was up. The last couple of days had been tiring and Virgil had trouble following the conversations around him. He was so tired. The bags under his eyes must have bags at this point, but he did not want to fall asleep.

  
The nightmare came back each time he tried to rest, every time he closed his eyes, he was only welcomed by the empty eyes of Roman’s.

  
The locations changed between two sites. Either it was the crystal circle, or it was at a square that was in ruins, flames rising tall around them, rain and lightning falling from the sky and deadly spells being cast around them as hysterical screams could be heard in the background.

  
In those dreams he stood clad in white robes that was swaying with the wind, contrasting the darkness that were clouding the two of them. Roman’s head was bleeding and he had regular robes on, his school uniform nowhere in sight and he seemed older. More mature. More intimidating in his posture as he swung his wand and killed him for the umpteenth time.

  
Christmas had been over for some days now.

  
He did not remember much of the details from the celebration, since his head had been foggy most of the time. Patton’s sister Paige had come home from Ireland where she was training to become a magizoologist. She was very pretty and the child that looked the most like Oria, having the same dark hair and tanned skin, though her eyes were blue, and she wore stylish round glasses.

  
The family opened their presents, but surprised Logan and Virgil with a book of muggle fairytales each, by a muggle writer called H.C. Andersen, making sure that no one left the celebrations empty handed. Parker had apparently picked them the day before when she and Harvey had been on an emergency food run, while the trio had been out walking along the creek for miles.

  
She had blushed when he had given her a small smile as thanks, when she gave him the nicely wrapped gift.

  
He had read a few fairytales the last couple of nights, but last night he had been up almost the whole night reading the rest of them and an extra book he had found downstairs, called Me Before You, instead of reliving his nightmares again.

  
Today would be New Year’s Eve and Roman had send a letter with Harold, telling them that he had gotten permission from his parents to celebrate with them and could arrive around dinner time.

  
He had decided to take a walk just before the sun rose. His steps were light, and he tucked his clothes on carefully so as not to wake up the others. The fun thing about waking up before everyone else, was the opportunity to see them at their most vulnerable. They had changed posture completely.

  
Patton was laying very proper in his bed. The blanket was laying right up under his chin and a puppy teddy had its head popped up next to him, everything else was covered and there were no sound coming from the for once quiet sunshine boy.

  
Logan on the other hand was sprawled all over the place, one arm and one leg was even slung over unto Virgil’s madras and his mouth was wide open in a bear like growling snore, his hair strewn wildly all over his face and saliva glistening on his cheek.  
He shook his head and closed the door silently, walking slowly out of the house, not wanting to wake anybody too early. He pulled up the dark hood on his hoodie and started walking for the forest. He needed some fresh air to clear his head.

  
Why did everything have to be so difficult and negative? Every time he even tries to think that maybe everything could be good and nice for a while, something happens to destroy those thoughts.

  
A few branches were quickly swiped away from his path, irritation taking over his tired mind. Why could the nightmares not just end? He was so tired. Why could he not get a break from everything? A place where he did not need to live his life but just relax without thinking.

  
And Roman…

  
Virgil backed up against a tree and slid down into the snow at its bottom, hiding his face in his knees.

  
What would he do when he arrived? He did not feel like seeing him, after watching his fantasy Roman kill him multiple times the last couple of days. It seemed so real every time. The heartbreak. The pain. The emptiness when he fell, and life was sucked out of him when the deathly spell hit him.

  
And those pesky butterflies were at it again.

  
Virgil clawed at his stomach with one of his hands. Why could they not die? He did not want them right now. He huffed, speaking thickly.

  
“Stupid.”

  
“Thanks for that Lonerboy.”

  
Virgil looked up surprised, easily seeing Parker in her yellow jacket, walking up the dimly lit path in between the large pine trees. She was wearing breeches and her hair was pulled up in a ponytail, probably on her way to the stables and her pony, though that was in the other direction.

  
She must have seen the confusion on his face, because right after the thought she shrugged as she stopped in front of him.

  
“I saw you sneak out and thought I wanted to make sure you wouldn’t get lost in the woods” she told him.

  
“I know my way around good enough” he told her, playing with the snow around him. “And if worse comes to worse I could just feel my way back.”

  
A small chuckle sounded, and he looked up at her smirking face.

  
“Magic right? Patton told me the same thing in Italy once and he got lost for hours, before we managed to find him!”

  
He hummed back at her, a small smile cracking open.

  
He heard her footsteps as walked to his side and sat down on her hunches next to him, sharing her warmth with him. They sat like that for a while, enjoying the view from the small snow-covered hill and listened to forest coming to life as the sun brightened steadily.

  
“Patton told me yesterday that you keep waking up in the night” she started slowly after a while. Virgil side eyed her, not wanting to give her his full attention for this particular subject. “I have nightmares sometimes. I had this really bad fall in a military competition a couple of months back, where I got stuck in the stirrup and was dragged over a jump before I got free” she told him, her voice quiet.

  
“I was afraid to ride for a while. I still sometimes dream that I can’t get free and MyStar falls over the jump and down on me, crushing me. But my mamma and dad helped me back to the stable, because I really love being out there, so I shouldn’t stop going even though it was scary at first. What’s your dream about?”

  
Parker sounded so earnest. Her face sincere in the need to help him get over this difficulty. She looked a lot like her brother in that moment, the expression very much the same. He sighed, knowing that if she was anything like Patton she would not let this go.

  
“I dream about Roman…”

  
She nodded slowly.

  
“Right, the guy that’s coming over tonight.”

  
He looked at her green gloved covered hands, instead of looking in her eyes.

  
“I dream that he kills me. Every night. Every time it’s the same way and it feels too real” he whispered, as if it was only meant for himself.

  
Silence fell over them for a bit. Both of them probably thinking about what he had just said. Thankfully she could not read emotions like Patton, he could not deal with that right now. Everything was mixed in a giant ball of negativity and he did not need to be cuddled for that.

  
“Do you really think he would do that?”

  
“No.”

  
His answer was immediate, there was no question to it and it surprised himself, but Parker nodded again as if proving something.

  
“Then maybe you should talk to him about it, letting it all out you know.”

  
“No” he said again, this time with embarrassment tinting his words.

  
Parker groaned, standing up slowly and brushing the snow of her breeches.

  
“It would help you know” she told him matter-of-factly. “I have to go, but if you want…” she hesitated, shifting from foot to foot, not looking at him. “We can hang out when I get back, I got some music we can listen to and stuff. Maybe I can get some color on you.”

  
He knew a distraction when he heard one and it was very welcomed. He did not think Patton and Logan would mind much, he had been a rather gloomy company the last couple of days and even though he had seen the worried glances from the two, he could not help to think that perhaps he was a bit of a bother and maybe they would like to have some time without his brooding.

  
“Sure. Sounds nice.”

 

 

  
He did not know what he had expected, but it was not this.

  
There was not much indicating that this was a girl’s room, or anything that seemed particularly childlike in here. None of the walls were bare. Three of the pastel purple painted walls was covered from wall to ceiling in band posters and the last wall was used for Parker’s competition prices and trophies sitting upon a shelf in the middle of all the white, green, blue and red.

  
She had a couple of stuffed horses upon her bed, otherwise there was a bookcase filled to the brim with books, a desk with a weird window thing with moving pictures on and buttons underneath, and another case with a few stacks of some square things she pulled out and laid upon the desk.

  
Parker looked up at him expectantly and waved him further into the room.

  
He closed the door and sat slowly down upon her bed as she sat down in the chair by her desk.

  
She began tapping at the buttons and clicking on the square in the middle. Suddenly music came out of the window and Virgil quickly stepped up behind her to see where it was coming from. The picture was a tiny man singing! Muggles sure had come a long way, he thought their pictures did not move!

  
“That’s Fall Out Boy, they came out with a new album this year called Mania. It’s pretty awesome” she pointed to the man, nodding along to the beat. Virgil could not help nodding along with her.

  
“This one’s called Young and Menace, it’s a bit slow at first and they’ve gotten a bit more electronic with the years, but I think it’s great anyway.”

  
“Have they made more?” he asked, watching as she grinned back at him, cracking her knuckles and pushing the buttons again, words coming up in a small space in the window. Virgil tried touching the words, but Parker slapped his hand away, shocking him.  
“Don’t touch my baby, the screen can’t handle your fingerprints.”

  
“Your baby?” he asked looking at the… thing, bewildered.

  
“I live for my computer okay? If I’m not out with MyStar I’m sure as hell on Tumblr or finding new music to enjoy.”

  
Another song started, this one clearly had less beat, though more drums and guitar. And the voice did not keep changing in pitch, it sounded good.

  
“This is called The Patron Saint of Liars and Fakes, it’s from their first album from before I was born, but I’ve heard all the songs anyway, they’re that good.”

  
“Seems like it. I like them.”

  
They talked more about music, Virgil getting a new insight in the world of muggles and the wonders of the computer. Tumblr was very weird. Sometimes there were wonderful, yet unmoving art pieces, sometimes women popped up and Parker was quick to block them. Virgil did not ask about that.

  
Parker showed him a couple more bands, among them someone who were called Panicked at a Dancing Place, another called Linkin Park, and two ladies called Avril Lavigne and Evanescence. They all had different sounds but came together in their spite to the universe and other people. That was what he could gather from the couple of songs he heard.

  
She gave him a couple of discs to take with him if he ever got a radio. Probably would not happen but he liked the gesture. As he sat admiring the design of a disc from a band called Nirvana, Parker suddenly spun in her chair to better watch him.

  
“What’s Roman like anyway?”

  
Virgil stiffened slightly, not really wanting to answer that. Even the mentioning of his name made his heart leap.

  
“He’s… alright” he tried, shrugging nonchalantly. He got a snort in return.

  
“Right. Well, is he funny? Charismatic? A doofus?”

  
“He’s a doofus alright” Virgil laughed. “He’s a bit of a dork when he wants to show that side, but he’s one of the popular kids so he doesn’t show it that often.”

  
Parker made an understanding noise.

  
“He’s really sporty and plays quidditch pretty well, which he knows, and his ego can be really bad, too full of himself sometimes.”

  
“He doesn’t sound like someone who would kill you.”

  
His stomach dropped at the mentioning of his dreams. All of the sudden he did not really want to celebrate New Year’s with the others. All he really wanted was to go home, home to his grandmothers cottage and the fire dances they made together.  
Virgil stood and blinked his eyes. He wanted to hide away.

  
He was about to walk out the door, when Parker stood and wrapped her hand around his wrist gently, looking ashamed up at him.

  
“I’m sorry Virgil, I didn’t mean to upset you. Sometimes I just end up spewing some crap even though I know it won’t be sensitive to the one I’m talking to.”

  
He voice was so small. So young. Virgil’s hurting heart caved for her and he stopped walking away, instead sitting down in the abandoned chair, beginning to push at some of the buttons.

  
He could feel Parker stare at the back of his neck, though she did not walk over to him, opting going to her closet and opening the double doors. Virgil looked slightly toward her, watching as she pulled out a couple of clothing articles, all of them very colorful, a mix of red, purple and green, before she swung around and looked at him with the bright patented Patton smile.

  
“I got to dress you for tonight right? We have to prepare for the guests!”

  
Virgil closed his eyes and turned to the computer, pushing enter and letting the song from Panic at the Dancing Spot, When the Day Met the Night, Parker had found last, play again.

  
It was a good thing that Parker tended to like the comfort of bigger clothing, since she wanted him to try out her shirts and t-shirts. Virgil had quickly dismissed her ripped black jeans, knowing at first glance that there was no way his daddy long legs would fit in them.

  
Though they were kind of cool.

  
“We could always make some holes in your own pants?” she suggested, as he pulled of his hoodie to take the dark blue dress shirt.

  
He buttoned it up as he mulled it over. It could be a nice touch.

  
“I don’t think you should wear that, it’s too… elegant” she wrinkled her nose.

  
He spread out his arms and furrowed his brow at her.

  
“You’re saying I’m not elegant?”

  
She laughed and threw the purple plaid shirt at him.

  
“Try this, it goes better if you absolutely have to wear a t-shirt underneath.”

  
“I would feel naked without one” he pouted, throwing the dress shirt unto the floor next to the many other shirts, tank tops and t-shirts. Parker was lazing about in her bed, watching him with critical eyes and listening to Shinedown that was playing.  
They had been at it for a while. Parker deciding what he should try, Virgil wearing it and Parker deciding that it did not fit his ‘style’, whatever his style even was. Apparently it was something that was supposed to be edgy.

  
They had found a black tank top that served as his inner shirt, and they had both decided that he could wear his own black pants just fine. Without any other shirt on he looked rather slim, if he did say so himself.

  
He pulled the dark purple and black plaid on, feeling it fit comfortingly around his shoulders though the sleeves were a bit on the shorter side.

  
“It’s a great col- “

  
The door slammed open, making the two jump around to see Patton standing in the doorway with wide eyes and a relieved smile.

  
“Patton! Che stai facendo in camera mia?!”

  
“Volevo chiederti se sapevi dov'è Virgil. But he’s right here!”

  
“What?” Virgil began buttoning up the shirt slowly, looking confused from one Italian bilingual to another.

  
Patton walked into the room ignoring his sister’s exclamations of indignation and need for privacy. He stepped up to Virgil, smiling brightly.

  
“We’ve been looking everywhere for you! We thought that maybe you’d gone on a walk, but it was getting late and I got a bit worried because I hadn’t seen you all day” Patton said, stabbing Virgil with guilt. “Then I thought that maybe you were hiding somewhere, I know how you are with too much socializing and Logan told me to ask around before we all went outside looking for you.”

  
“Sorry Pat” he mumbled, stuffing his hands in his front pockets, standing before the Hufflepuff insecurely. Patton waved his hand and walked toward the door.

  
“It’s alright kiddo, I just wanted to tell you that Roman have just arrived” he looked back at his sister, narrowing his eyes. She narrowed her own back at him.

  
Virgil felt his cheeks heat up, wishing to everything holy that they would ignore him for the moment. Then Patton spoke to his sister. The words rolling beautifully over his tongue, though with a hint of teasing.

  
“Magari anche te dovresti prepararti, Virgil non è l'unico che vuole vestirsi per fare colpo. If you know what I’m saying.”

  
Parker flushed red all over, throwing one of the toy horses at her laughing brother who ran out the door in two quick steps.

  
“Chiudi la bocca idiota! Almeno parla italiano quando mi vuoi insultare!”

  
They could hear the thumping steps as Patton ran down the hall and down the stairs, yelling about having found Virgil upstairs.

  
He began touching the sleeves absentmindedly, trying to pull them down over his hands to remove the nervousness and the silent flutters in his stomach. He felt his hands getting clammy and his face felt hot. Maybe he was getting sick?  
A couple of small hands took a hold on the sleeve on one arm and started rolling it up, baring his pale skin for the world to see. He suddenly felt very exposed.

  
“This makes it look cooler, you can borrow my leather bracelet too for an edgier touch and then I think you’re ready.”

  
She stood back and scrutinized him. Then she stepped forward and ruffled his hair, making him grimace.

  
“There! Now you’re messy and cool!”

  
He gave her a sarcastic thumbs up and took the bracelet she handed to him, clicking it in place. He looked up at the mirror on the door of Parker’s closet, watching himself with undecided eyes. The purple, plaid shirt looked… different on him. But because it was the only other color except for the brown leather band on his right arm, it did not seem as if it was too much. He was still mainly all pale skin, dark hair and dark clothes, but he guessed it was… edgy.

  
Suddenly Parker began pushing him toward the door, smiling bashfully at him when he turned around confused.

  
“I have to get ready now myself. You can go, I’ll be right there in a minute.”

  
The door was then promptly slammed in his face, the wind picking up a stray lock in his eye. Virgil looked to the right, seeing the stairs right there. Waiting for him to walk downstairs. To see him. He shut his eyes tightly and shook his head.  
Why was this so hard? Just do it! Just do it Virgil, he is right down there, and he is not going to do anything. What is the worst that could happen? You die?

  
Virgil huffed a self-deprecating laugh, turned around and began his descend down the stairs. He could hear talking from down stairs. The voices of Patton’s parents in the kitchen and the younger people in the living room. Patton, Logan, Paige… and Roman.  
He took a deep breath and tucked at the bracelet, standing there before the entrance for a second. Then with a determined face he walked into the room.

  
Logan and Patton were sitting in the couch, both grinning at each other. Paige were sat in the recliner, her hand held up to hide her own smile. They all had comfortable yet a bit more formal clothing on.

  
Paige had pulled her thick, dark hair back in an intricate braid and was wearing a light pink flowy top to a pair of black leggings. Patton had a pastel sunshine yellow dress shirt on and regular jeans and Logan was dressed in dark blue robes, with a white tie.  
On the coffee table were bowls with cookies and chips laid out, together with a couple of bottles of soda and wine. Both white and red. Paige had already dug into the red wine, taking a sip here and there.

  
He knew that the person his heart was yet again beating for, was in the room. He also knew where, but he had to fight his eyes to let them lift up toward the end of the couch by the window, where he stood, already turned toward Virgil with a brilliant smile and warm, chocolate eyes. They were not empty or cold. A breath of relief escaped him slowly.

  
Though he had to be conscious about not letting his jaw drop at the sight.

  
Roman was gorgeous, he would admit that in his quiet mind without lying.

  
The Gryffindor was wearing elegant dress robes, his suit vest was blood red and his dress shirt was pristinely white. Virgil looked further down. His pants were black, devoid of any other color and clung to him in a way that should be illegal. Of course, his shoes were polished too.

  
“Virgil!” Patton yelled happily.

  
Virgil snapped his eyes up, locking up at the sight of the opened top button in the dress shirt. This was a dream- NO! a nightmare. Could he disappear somewhere? His hands were sweating even more now.

  
“We were wondering where you had gone today? Were you out for a walk?” Logan asked, pouring himself and Patton a glass of soda. Patton took it graciously.

  
Roman was smiling at him. No, smirking. His eyes went down and slowly up again, meeting his eyes once more. His smirk broadened significantly.

  
Virgil scowled back and stuck his nose in the air, wandering over to the other recliner and settled down. He could hear the blonde chuckle, which made his face heat up again. He quickly dried off his hands in the shirt.

  
“Yea, then I hung out with Parker. When are we going to eat?” he reached out for the white wine. Just a smidge of liquid confidence would be needed.

  
“In a little bit” Paige answered next to him. “We’re waiting for Parker, then we’ll get to the meal. I hope you’re all hungry, because there is going to be a lot!”

 

“A lot, a lot! And mamma will keep pouring for you until there isn’t anything left just so you know” Patton warned with a smile.

  
“It smells delicious, so I think we will be good” Roman complimented and sat down on Patton’s other side, just in line of Virgil. Great. Fantastic.

  
Virgil knew the blonde was looking over, but he kept his eyes on the door as he took another sip.

  
“Have you gotten a response from the druid lady?” Roman asked.

  
Virgil shook his head. He had not heard anything yet, perhaps they were busy or maybe, more likely anyway, they were minding their own business and not perceiving Virgil as part of that any longer.

  
“Perhaps she will answer in the new year, it has not been much more than two weeks after all, and there have been traditions and celebration to take care of in the meantime” Logan mentioned, Patton nodded along.

  
“She seemed nice enough when we met her, remember? She’s probably just busy right now” Patton agreed, earning a confused look from his older sister. Virgil just wanted them to stop reassuring him for a moment and start talking about something else, that had not anything to do with him. He was about to take another sip when a shadow fell over him and he looked back in surprise.

  
“Parker you look wonderful!” Patton exclaimed, standing up quickly to take a closer look.

  
“Do you like it?” she asked meekly, swinging the clothing around absentmindedly with her hands, looking down at Virgil with red tinted cheeks.

  
She was wearing a baby blue dress with white stripes, sewn in an a-cut skirt. Black tights were on her muscled legs and black pearls hung around her neck. Did she wear mascara?

  
He was about to tell her that it was a great look. Edgy?

  
“It looks lovely darling! Are you the Parker we are excitingly awaiting?” Roman asked with grandeur, making Parker look up with a small scowl.

  
“What of it?”

  
“Parker!” Paige barked at her ill-mannered little sister.

  
“What? Are we going to eat or what? Come on” she pulled at Virgil’s arm, almost making him spill his wine unto the fluffy carpet. He scrambled out of his seat to follow her, looking back over his shoulder once to see the amused expressions upon their faces, and the raised eyebrow from Roman.

  
What even.

 

  
The evening had gradually become much more bearable, even with the glances coming from Roman throughout the hours.

  
Paige took off after dinner, having already planned her evening with a party with some of her friends from her years at Hogwarts, leaving the rest of them to play different card games, and Logan pulling out a game of wizard chess to the clear fascination of Oria and Harvey when he and Roman started playing against each other.

  
Patton turned on the vision window, starting some music videos mixed with news when Harvey changed channel. Virgil was transfixed, it was weird. It was like a portrait, but the woman did not answer him when he waved at her and said hello. Patton and Oria had chuckled at that and Parker had to explain how the vision thing worked like the computer in her room.

  
Oria had stopped him when he went to pour his fourth glass of wine. It was tasty. He tried telling her that the legal drinking age in the druidic communities were fifteen and since he had just turned that he was allowed. He did not think that she believed him, since she pulled the bottle out of his hand regardless.

  
Roman had laughed at him from right next to him on the sofa, they were sharing between the four of them. Virgil had pouted spectacularly at that and the Gryffindor had laid his arm around his shoulders and pulled him into his hard chest in a short embrace, making Virgil flash furiously red.

  
At around eleven, the four of them had chosen to hang out in Patton’s room, where Roman could also lay out his madras and other sleeping things. Parker had stood too, ready to join them but Patton had paused her in the door, making her scowl at his apologetic smile.

  
“Perchè non posso venire anche io? È così noioso qua ”

  
“Voglio soltanto stare con i miei amici. Solo noi” Patton told her, giving her a somewhat stern expression while still smiling. “I don’t run into your room when you have friends over right?”

 

“No, but- “

  
“Parker! Let them go, we can have a nice evening by ourselves just fine” Oria told her daughter.

  
Parker scowled deeper and glanced between Virgil and Patton for a second, before she relented with a sigh.

  
Virgil was confused, and it did not help that Roman was looking amused next to him by the doorway. They were about to turn around, when Patton stuck his head back into the living room again and yelled loudly.

  
“Non è che non vedrai il tuo principe azzuro domani!”

  
“PATTON!”

  
A chair was thrown back and loud footsteps came toward them. They all ran up the stairs, hurriedly disappearing from sight, at the danger of Patton’s twelve-year-old, temperamental little sister. Roman and Patton were laughing loudly all the way and kept going even when they all ended up in the Hufflepuff’s room, the door locked behind them quickly.

  
Virgil just managed to see Fetch fall from the desk where Kermit’s terrarium was, to scramble as fast as she could underneath the bed and hide in the dark.

  
“Oh, my goodness gracious, she sounded so outrageous! What did you say to her?!” cackled Roman. Patton was wheezing, tears creeping from the corners of his eyes and laughter non-existent at they came out in breaths instead.  
Logan and Virgil exchanged confused yet exasperated looks, at the spectacle in front of them. Patton clutched his stomach and tipped over in his bed, tears still cascading down his cheeks.

  
“I do not understand… what is so funny?” Logan inquired, sounding a bit annoyed.

  
Patton waved his hand at him, before drying the tears away, finally making him able to look up at the others, his smile blinding. Roman was still chuckling as he began moving around the room, pushing Virgil madras further toward Logan’s to create space for his own.

  
“It-It’s nothing” Patton snorted. “Just a bit of sibling love.”

  
“Yes, but what did you say? I almost feared for my life for a second there, and she is a muggle” Roman chuckled breathlessly, looking up at them all with a wry smile.

  
Patton pointed a finger at him, an eyebrow popped up.

  
“I’ll ignore that comment, but anyway I better not say. She would kill me if it got out.”

  
Virgil shook his head at them. She was not that terrifying to be honest. He sat down upon his makeshift bed with a huff, leaning further down until his back hit the sweet softness of his blanket. He watched Logan sit down next to him, much closer than the other days. He then looked to the other side.

  
His heart leaped when he saw how close Roman was beside him. If he moved his arm a bit to the right, he could easily caress his thigh. Virgil quickly looked away, ignoring the tugging in his stomach, hoping that Roman would be too oblivious to notice the same.

  
“So, what are we going to do?” he asked, coughing slightly at the gruffness of his own voice.

  
Patton gazed lazily at him, his eyes too knowingly and Virgil glared back for a second to put him in his place.

  
“We can do a question game? I will start, then Logan, then you and so on” Patton offered, sitting up to better see them. “The one that’s asking has to answer the question as well, and you have to tell the truth, meaning that you can’t do any turnarounds or loopholes in any question, okay?”

  
Logan nodded affirmably, and Virgil felt Roman finish up making his bed and lean back on his hands.

  
“Sounds fun” the Gryffindor answered.

  
“Agreed.”

  
“Yea, okay. Why not” Virgil said nonchalantly, picking at his nails out of nervous habit.

  
“Okay!” Patton clapped his hands and closed his eyes for a second. Thinking.

  
There was too silent for a moment, Roman’s breathing got to him quickly. How can a person breath so loud?

  
“I got it! What’s your favorite animal? Mine is dogs. Logan, you’re next.”

  
The Ravenclaw sighed.

  
“But you already know that I do not like animals!”

  
“There have to be one that you don’t hate as much!” Patton laughed to the grievance of the youngest in their group.

  
“Fine. I guess… hummingbirds, they are rather fascinating. Or bees. They are important for the ecosystem.”

  
“That was not too hard, was it nerd?” Roman teased. Logan gave him a withering glare, making Virgil snort, quickly hiding his laugh behind his hand.

  
“Your turn Virge!”

  
Well this was easy.

  
“Dragons.”

  
“Dear God, no. They are such beasts” Roman complained, Virgil almost got offended by all the theatrics because of his choice.

  
“Good thing it’s not your favorite animal then” he spit out. Roman only rolled his eyes at him, making Virgil growl under his breath. Stupid, pretentious Gryffindors.

  
“Mine is horses, they are reliable.”

  
Virgil swore he heard him mutter ‘unlike the beasts’ afterwards, but Logan already had his question ready.

  
“Do you speak other languages than English? I speak Gaelic and Latin fluently, and I am in the midst of learning French as well, because my father thinks it is a flowery language that is not meant for anything” Logan said.

  
“Wow Lo, got some daddy issues there?” Virgil joked, but Logan shrugged without a smile.

  
“You could say that.”

  
Right. Maybe he was not the only one with issues on the Homefront. He cleared his throat, thinking that Logan would probably like for him to take away the spotlight he had created.

  
“I speak Anglo-Saxon English. Guess I’m kind of bilingual since druids normally speaks that and our spells is in that language. My dad was a muggle, so there’s the English part I guess.”

  
“That sounds great though” Roman told him. “I must unfortunately say that I am quite boring on that front. I do not know any other languages, I mean, I of course know the spells are in Latin but that is about it.”

  
“I know Italian!” Patton yelled, his hand in the air to get attention. Logan chuckled at that.

  
“We kind of figured buddy” Virgil smiled. He looked up at the ceiling, mulling over what questions he would dare ask. Something he could answer himself also. Not something embarrassing then, that was clearly out of question. But… if he could tell one embarrassing story, then he would get to hear the other’s as well. He was suddenly curious as to what Roman could be embarrassed about, was there anything?

  
Well that is decided then.

  
“What is your most embarrassed moment in your life so far?” Roman flopped down, his face hidden in his pillow with a groan. Virgil smiled wickedly. Gotcha.

  
“I myself had this moment in first year, and no it’s not the broom incident” Patton snickered at that. “I was lost one of the first weeks and tried frantically to find the classroom where we were supposed to have charms. So, little me were running up and down the freaking staircases for maybe twenty minutes, because they kept moving. I was freaking stuck! Then in my desperation I thought, hey… I can probably jump to the staircase underneath, yea sure Virgil, great idea! I took a running start and jumped!... right into a forcefield. Did you know the stairs has that? I sure as hell didn’t and it slung me back unto the stairs, right into the missing step where I got stuck, my legs wedged and hanging underneath as I clung to the steps above. I swear I cried my eyes out and then the other Slytherin’s came out, the lesson done and found me, having given up life forever, stuck in the stairs.”

  
Patton was cackling evilly. Virgil did not even know he could do that.

  
“That sounds unfortunate” Logan said with a wry smile, lying down next to him as well. Suddenly his gaze shifted to behind him, smiling with too much teeth. “Your turn Roman.”

  
Roman huffed, but when Virgil turned to look at him with a victorious smile, his eyes were soft, and he smiled fondly back at him, before starting his own tale.

  
“I was taken to a magical circus in Spain at one of our family vacations. It was magnificent! We were able to get backstage after the show, where there were all of these animals and creatures and artists in all kinds of colors” he spoke with his hands as well, stroking against Virgil’s arm softly by accident a few times. “Then… there was a dragon.” Virgil snorted loudly, getting another eyeroll from the blonde.

  
“I wanted to touch it of course, how flipping sweet would that be? By the way I think I have been around ten or something and I tried to get Remy in on the plan, but he chickened out. So, I pushed my hand in through the holes in the cage, it was a great beast, red and huge and looking straight at me. Suddenly! It moved its wing, I thought it wanted me to touch it, so I stretched further, then BAM!”

  
Virgil jumped in shock, eyes wide and watching the storyteller intensely.

  
“It lunged at me and I ducked quickly! If I had not done that, I would not have been here today, there was fire everywhere. It was quite the scene let me tell you. I do not know how long I cried, but there was snort and tears and I have not done something as stupid since then… and I do not like dragons anymore” he finished.

  
“Poor Princey” Virgil babied at him.

  
Roman pushed his face into the pillow for that.

  
“You shut it!”

  
Virgil laughed loudly, the sound muffled by the soft darkness.

  
“Patton?” Roman asked laughing, still looking down at Virgil when he peeked out from his punishment with a small smile.

  
“Well… Last summer I set my grandmother’s kitchen on fire, because I was trying to bake a pizza but forgot about it. Italian grandmothers can be very terrifying, and everything sounds way worse in Italian when you’re getting yelled at” he said. He looked quite traumatized. “My mother still won’t let me forget it, saying that I will never make pizza in her house, but I could always try and burn my own apartment down when I move out at one point.”

  
They all chuckled at that, then looking at Logan for the last story. Logan pulled off his glasses and laid them at the head of his madras.

  
“It is midnight. Happy New Year.”

  
“What?!” Patton looked at his alarm clock by his bed, surprise shining in his face. “It is! HAPPY NEW YEAR! Tradition time!” he flung himself down from his bed, landing on Logan’s chest with a huff and took his face into his hands, giving him a soundly, wet kiss on the cheek, then quickly scrambled up and out of his room, almost running into the door when he forgot about the lock.

  
They heard the other’s running around and yelling happy new year at each other downstairs.

  
Logan looked shell shocked. Clutching his left cheek.

  
Virgil laughed softly at him. Patton always was a whirlwind.

  
A hand touched the top of his back gently, laying there until he turned toward Roman who looked at him with those eyes that were impossible to decipher. They were soft. Gentle, but guarded.

  
They were close, though Roman was leaning almost over him on his elbow, Virgil looking up into the face he had always thought was charming, though had not comprehended what it meant to like it in that way. Roman was beautiful, his butterflies could attest to that. They were flying wildly again. Even crazier when Roman began leaning down toward his face. He thought he was going to die, his heart beat too fast and he was scared that the butterflies would fly out of his mouth the second he opened it.

  
Roman was so close, the hand on his back moving up into the nape of his neck, fingers digging into his hair.

  
Then his warm and soft lips touched him.

  
Upon his forehead.

  
And Roman leaned back again. Too far away.

  
Was that it? He almost felt disappointed, though when Roman gave him a soft smile, the butterflies came back tenfold.

  
“Happy New Year” the Gryffindor whispered.

  
“Happy New Year” the Slytherin echoed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alexx you were a Godsend with your Italian knowledge!
> 
> Translation:
> 
> Parker! Aiutami a mettere i bagagli nella macchina, cosi possiamo arrivare a casa prima di cena. Tuo papa non andrà in quella cucina! - Parker! Help load the car, so we can get home before dinner. Your father is not going in that kitchen!
> 
> Ma è così piccolo mamma! Perchè non puo sedersi Patton lì?! - But it’s so small mom! Why can’t Patton sit there ?!
> 
> Perchè l'ho detto io! Sali sulla macchina, ti siedierai nel mezzo ora! - Because I say so! Get in the car, you’ll sit in the middle now!
> 
> Patton! Che stai facendo in camera mia?! - Patton! What are you doing in my room?!
> 
> Volevo chiederti se sapevi dov'è Virgil - I wanted to ask if you knew where Virgil was
> 
> Magari anche te dovresti prepararti, Virgil non è l'unico che vuole vestirsi per fare colpo - Maybe you should get ready too, it’s not just Virgil who is going to dress to impress
> 
> Chiudi la bocca idiota! Almeno parla italiano quando mi vuoi insultare! - You shut your mouth you stupid head! Speak in Italian when you want to bully me at least!
> 
> Perchè non posso venire anche io? È così noioso qua - Why can’t I join you too? It’s so boring down here
> 
> Voglio soltanto stare con i miei amici. Solo noi - I just want to be with my friends. Alone
> 
> Non è che non vedrai il tuo principe azzuro domani! - It’s not like you won’t see your prince charming tomorrow!
> 
>  
> 
> Playlist for The Crest of Merlin - a song for each chapter:
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=x6wMinZPiHo&list=PLFZqzIR8tuAzMAnwsIAYEgwGUyDR-ILG9


	9. Chapter 9

Roman had stayed for another night before going back to his family for the last couple of days before the new semester would start.

  
Virgil had not known what to do with himself. It was not even supposed to be a big deal, but the way Roman had looked at him, had kissed him! It had made him nervous in another way around him. He would say it was a better way, but the hand sweating, the stuttering and the feeling that he was constantly being watched, had become quite the nuisance to his poor heart.

  
It was not like he and Roman was alone at any point, Patton and Logan were always with them and they did things like cleaning after the festivities or take a walk down to the stable again, where they watched Parker train with her New Forrest pony. But the way Roman kept touching him could not keep being accidental.

  
Their hands would brush when they walked next to each other. Roman would walk almost too close by when he moved around, letting Virgil easily get a whiff of his musk and cologne on the way. He would smirk at him when Virgil flushed red and begin stuttering and he would speak in this low voice close to his ear, even when he was just making a small comment about the weather or Logan’s clear apprehension to MyStar.

  
It had been excruciating! Even now, as he stepped into the Slytherin common room, the night before school start, Virgil could feel the minty breath upon the shell of his ear and the brushes of skin upon the back of his hand, making his stomach flip over and over and his heart bounce around in his chest.

  
Those little things meant that Roman liked him back, did it not?

  
Virgil shook his head, moving around a couple of seven years that were walking in the other direction. He was so confused. Confused and nervous and jittery in a way he did in fact not like.

  
He took a hold on the door knob and banged it open, still deep in thought, before the high-pitched yelp made him stop and look up. His mind blanched and he quickly turned his back to the half-naked boy and closed the door with a click.

  
“You scared the crap out of me! I thought you were meant to be the quiet one” Jake snorted behind him. “You can turn around you know.”

  
Virgil blushed even more, everything felt too hot in the room and the dark wooded door was way more interesting than a shirtless Jake standing in the middle of the freaking room with a shirt in his hands and a flying needle sewing a hole together in it.

  
“Why aren’t you wearing clothes? Couldn’t you have put some other on?”

  
He could feel the deadpanned look roll over him.

  
“Hello Virgil Morgan! My name is Jake McLoughlin and I’ve been your very male roommate in this very male dorm for the past four and a half years. Pleasure to meet you! Apologies for having you watch me in my fighting fit and very undressed form for the three hundred time, I’m sure you’re not happy to see it” Jake teased, the sarcasm thick in his words.

  
Virgil turned around with a scowl, beat red in his face and eyes not going further down than the other’s face.

  
“Shut up you moron!”

  
Jake cackled as Virgil moved to his own bed, where Fetch was already laying near his pillow. Asleep. At his bedside table there was an unopened convolute laying with the front upwards and his name written in beautiful cursives.

  
“Yea, that came in a few minutes ago. there was a house elf that came up with it and I laid it there for you, since I didn’t know when you’d come back” he was told by the naked boy behind him. He nodded in acknowledgement and opened the letter quickly, exhilaration flooding his veins.

 

  
Hello Virgil.

  
I have received your letter regarding the family heirloom from the side of your druidic heritage, and my answer at first was to say that in the case that you are in where you are no longer a part of the druidic community of Great Britain, I am in a position where I am supposed to tell you that there is no more contact to the people inside of the walls of our society when you have been exiled.

  
Although this is the road that I would have taken easily with everyone else, I however, have a personal spot of fondness for your particular family, since Alaw was a dear friend of mine for many years and your lovely mother, Miriam, was a student of mine around twenty years back.

  
Therefore, I will help you with this problem, though for future information, you are not meant to be taking contact to former friends and acquaintances in this society or otherwise there will be consequences that the three leaders will have to set in motion.  
Let me know when and where we will do our meet up, and I will try and accommodate the means.

  
Kind Regards  
Elethea O’ Taidhg  
Leader of Amesbury

 

  
Virgil read it over one, two, then three times, not believing the fact that Elethea was in fact willing to help them with such a small thing as getting his box open. He turned it around to see if there was anything on the backside, but there was no secret note scratched into the surface.

  
“What did it say? Who was it from?” Virgil jumped out into the real world, by the voice that had gotten closer than before and was met with the curious face of Jake. Then his focus went to the strong arms that were crossed in front of the still naked chest, flexing slightly when he moved.

  
“Uhm.”

  
A finger tipped his head backwards, his eyes meeting the amused ones of Jake. He cocked an eyebrow. What an asshole. Virgil yanked away from him and jumped into the middle of his bed, where he could sit in peace.

  
“It’s just someone who can help me open the stupid box” he snarked. “You know, the one you tried to steal.”

  
“I was only trying to look at it! I’m not a thief!” Jake answered indignantly, before taking his shirt from where he had thrown it on Virgil’s bed, swiftly pulling it over his head as he walked out of the room.

  
“Sure, you aren’t!” Virgil yelled back. The only answer being the door slamming shot after the irritated Slytherin.

  
Virgil huffed a laugh at the other’s expense, before reading the letter a fourth time. If they were to set up a meeting it would have to be in Hogsmeade and he would have to find out when the next trip would take place. He also did not want to meet up without knowing everything to the dot.

  
His finger skimmed over the middle section, deep in thought.

  
Maybe she would be willing to tell him something about his mother too. Maybe she was not censured in their clan, like she had been in his own.

 

 

  
It was decided that on February the 2nd, the four of them would meet up with Elethea at The Three Broomsticks to talk. Logan told him to write a letter instantly so that they could receive a letter from the druid before the date, concluding that the meeting was in fact settled.

  
This lead to Virgil going with Roman to the owlery at ten in the evening, too close to the curfew for Virgil’s comfort, but the letter had to be sent that night whether he liked it or not. Otherwise Logan had threatened him with stopping his helping hand for Virgil’s potion papers.

  
Roman opened up the door and muttered a small Lumos spell, creating a small light for them as they entered the lively space for the nocturnal birds. It smelled somewhat fierce, the bird poop laying all over the floor at this point, Virgil noted. They should probably think to clean the space soon. The owls were all awake, flying in between the rafters, out of the windows or sitting and preening their feathers.

  
Roman laid a hand upon the small of his back to push him further into the room, making him jump and gasp. The blonde smirked at that.

  
“Come on, we can stand by that window.”

  
The moon was out, giving a silvery scenery where they stood, looking into the room for the big, crazy owl they were going to use.

  
“Harold!”

  
Nothing rustled down toward them.

  
“Why do you always do this you bothersome animal” Roman hissed through his teeth and called loudly again. Virgil leaned back against the window sill, watching the Gryffindor get more and more agitated as he kept calling for his evil owl, with amusement.  
His blonde hair gleamed in the moonlight and his skin lit up with whiteness like the snow outside. He looked away as he felt the flutter in his stomach, looking out at the perfect view outside. It was like another world in black, grey and white, beautiful in its own way without the sun lighting it up.

  
A basking of wings flew close by and Virgil ducked quickly, feeling the edges of claws touching his hair, before looking up from his hunch over position to see Harold landing on Roman’s arm with a grace and dangerous feeling to the both of them, that made the contact seem more epic than it really was. Roman smiled at him, before he stopped petting the bird to reach out toward Virgil, his fingers wiggling.

  
“The letter.”

  
Oh. Virgil shifted through all of his pockets a little panicked, before he finally found the hurriedly scratched out letter for Elethea. With a relieved sigh he gave the bound letter to the blonde, so that he could bind it to Harold’s leg and send him off.  
The owl protested by nipping the fingers of the Gryffindor and hiss at him angrily, before he was thrown out of the window, then having to spread his wings and catch a wind.

  
Roman cursed and stuck his finger in his mouth. As if that would help.

  
“Let me see it Princey” he told him, reaching for the hand near his face. Roman watched him for a bit, before pulling the finger out of his mouth for Virgil to inspect.

  
It was merely a scratch, it did not even bleed that much, but the skin around was irritated and pink.

  
“He always does that” Roman mumbled, watching as Virgil turn his hand this way and that, to be sure that he got everything looked at. He huffed a laugh at the comment, smiling entertained up at the older boy.

  
“Why won’t you just admit that he’s a crazy owl?”

  
“Because he just has a passionate personality” Roman told him seriously.

  
“Excuses, excuses” Virgil tutted back, getting ready to let go of the rough felt hand, even though he did not really want to. It was calloused and bigger than his own, his nails kept prettily and short unlike Virgil’s own bitten down ones.  
As their fingertips touched, Roman took his hand in his again, holding it firmer toward himself, pulling him closer by an apprehensive step that made his heart jump. He hoped Roman could not feel his hand getting sweaty as he gazed up into the almost black eyes in the dark, the light from his wand having been extinguished when they stopped by the window.

  
They were soft again, looking down at him as they had that New Year’s Eve, where he had felt his lips upon his forehead touch him lightly like a feather. The blonde’s other hand came to take a gently hold upon his upper arm, spiking Virgil’s blood pressure further.

  
The Gryffindor’s gaze turned thoughtful, but softness still held behind it.

  
“Roman?” he whispered, as if the world would wake and take away the moment if he spoke louder.

  
The blonde’s eyes flickered down shortly, then met his eyes again, his brow furrowed slightly. The hand not clasped in his own squeezed his arm lightly.

  
“What are we Virgil?” he whispered, his breath coming close enough for Virgil to feel on his own lips. How did he keep it so fresh and minty? He felt like swimming through the air, everything closing in, but not like with a panic attack. This was safe. Loving.  
“Friends?” he asked breathlessly, gazing at the soft looking lips of the other. He wetted his own unconsciously.

  
Roman took a small step closer, their thick winter clad chests almost touching. Virgil saw the other’s lips part slightly, before looking up into the dark eyes again. Something was happening, and his butterflies knew it.

  
“Are you sure?” the other asked just as breathless.

  
He felt his own arm move on its own, his hand coming to rest on Roman’s waist, pulling to bring himself closer.

  
Virgil felt on fire. Every nerve ending was lit and electric, feeling like the exhilaration he felt when watching an oncoming storm being brought in from the ocean. Mighty, ferocious and beautiful. His breath had become shallow, his heartbeat banging loudly in his ears and he sniffed the whiff of Roman with each breath. What was going on? Was this happening? Did Roman like him too?

  
The Gryffindor looked down again and suddenly Virgil realized that he was watching his lips as well. It had to mean something he thought, throwing caution to the wind as much as he only ever did when in the vicinity of the other.

  
“Yes?”

  
Roman growled lowly and bowed down, Virgil stepping up unto his toes to reach the other urgently.

  
“Roman are you in here?”

  
A loud gasp came from the other and all of the sudden Virgil was pushed harshly away and stumbling into the shadowed wall behind him, next to the window.

  
“Yes, I am here. Just had to send a letter.”

  
Virgil looked up confused, after having calmed his heart down for a few seconds, to watch Roman walk toward the exit, where another boy was standing in the doorway, Freddy, his brain helped figuring, leaving him behind without looking back.

  
“You’re lucky I found you man! Curfew’s been on for ten minutes by now and professor Longbottom is on a killing spree since someone has been messing with his Umbrella Flowers and he is furious” Freddy told him, slinging an arm over the blonde’s shoulders.

  
“Thank you then, I did not realize it was this late. We better get back.”

  
With that he was gone, leaving Virgil with an angry feeling of clear disappointment and butterflies that were still going strong. He did not like to be teased like this. He did not like it at all.

 

 

  
The Slytherin groaned angrily and punched the window sill in frustration. That stupid, moronic, too worried with popularity guy! What was with him? What was with this back and forward thing?

  
He closed his eyes, feeling the utter disappointment turn into sadness, making his throat tighten. He sighed, turning around and walked out of the owlery alone. He did not have the time or the energy for such a confusing thing. If Roman wanted this… he would have to step up his game. Virgil was self-conscious and without any ounce of self-confidence sure, but he knew that he did not have to be burdened with these kinds of problems, even though it would hurt to ignore his own feelings like that.  
He felt the flames almost graze his face when he ducked away for cover from the exploding chalice, its pieces raining down around the ears of every student in the room, making people yell out in shock and surprise.

  
Dammit!

  
He stood and tossed the bottom of the broken silvery chalice away from his shared desk with Patton in frustration. He had tried everything! Either it was too big of a boost or it was too small and the spell they tried to do would fizzle out or make the objects melt. How was he supposed to do new magic, when he could not even stop using his own kind?

  
Professor Flitwick levitated a fourth chalice over to him, just for this charm session. Virgil could feel his own patience running out quickly, whipping his wand out again before he could think more about how ridiculous this whole punishment had become at this point and how irritated with himself and his magic he was.

  
“Virgil, maybe I could do- “Patton started, but Virgil was long gone.

  
“Homorphus!” he yelled, an ugly sneer on his face.

  
The chalice shook dangerously, beginning slowly to sink in size into what should become its true form of a matchbox.

  
Then came the smoke.

  
“Watch out!” Patton grabbed his shoulders and hurled the both of them unto the floor, as another one of his chalices exploded. This one in a fit of feisty purple sparks.

  
Virgil punched the floor with his wand hand, making his wand sputter purple sparks itself. He could not even perform a simple spell he would have gotten easily in one session! He groaned, letting his arm fall over his eyes. Defeated.

  
“Is he okay?”

  
“He’s fine, just upset with this whole thing.”

  
Virgil removed his arm just a smidge to see the two talking. At the sight of Jake standing by their table looking down at him at what could be believed to either be concern or irritation, you never knew, talking with Patton who was sitting by his side, he quickly covered his eyes again with a loud sigh.

  
“Go away Jake.”

  
His dorm mate huffed a laugh.

  
“Alright, he’s definitely fine.”

  
“Class dismissed everyone, go get your lunch!” Flitwick told them all, getting the classroom cleared in seconds. Virgil just wanted to give up and use the rest of his life on that floor.

  
“Virgil? Come on let’s go to lunch” Patton said, trying to pry his arm away from his face. A couple of shoes walked around him and suddenly he felt strong hands in his armpits that lifted him quickly to his feet.

  
“No sense in being a drama queen V” Jake told him, brushing off his back. “Maybe you should talk to a teacher about this. Didn’t you say that new and old magic are two different things, that one time in History?”

  
Patton gasped next to him, his hand clapping loudly against his cheek.

  
“That’s right! Oh Virgil, that means that you can’t do new magic right? Why didn’t you say anything? We should tell professor McGonagall about this, otherwise you can’t do anything in our classes!”

  
“Except for exploding everything and endangering people as much as you did in the courtyard” Jake mumbled, on his other side, as the two guided a grumbling Virgil into the corridors toward the great hall.

  
“Now Jake, I don’t think that’s the best to mention” Patton told him, with a leveled stare.

  
“No, it’s okay Pat, he’s right” Virgil sighed, keeping his gaze in front of him, not wanting to see the pity on both faces. “I’ll talk to the headmistress when classes are done for today, I shouldn’t have let it go this far in the first place” he cracked his neck loudly. “It’s been a real pain.”

  
They stepped into the great hall, waving goodbye to Patton as they went to their separate tables for lunch. Jake hurried over, sitting in his usual spot since November, right in front of Virgil’s own, shielding him from everyone else. Virgil gave a tiny smile at that, moving to follow when Roman walked by him. Stepping right in front of him and away, followed by Maurice and Freddy at his sides. His smile turned into a small scowl.

  
Their eyes met, and Virgil was satisfied to see a pinkish tint appear on the blonde’s ears, before he looked away again. Leading the other Gryffindors to their table.

  
They would have to talk about that whole thing they had going on. Rather sooner than later.

 

 

  
Virgil was sat on the Slytherin side of the classroom once again, Jake and the others sitting right behind him and a doodle of a hippogriff upon the parchment where his notes should be. They were being lectured about Wizarding chaotic economical era of the 18th and 19th centuries. Even professor Sanders could not make that an appealing and exciting topic.

  
He was just finishing up the shadows of the claws, pretty satisfied with himself, when the classroom door opened, and three people walked in, closing the door carefully after them. Virgil furrowed his brow, looking around to see that both Jake behind him had seen them and that Patton also was looking curious at the three.

  
Professor Sanders must have felt a shift in the air, as he looked up confused at his students before following their gazes to their guests behind him.

  
“Yes?”

  
The trio came further into the room, stopping just beside the professor. The youngest holding out his hand for Sanders to take.

  
He must have been in his mid-twenties yet seemed older with how he held his posture and had an air of respect and leadership surrounding him. He had grain blonde colored hair that was swept nicely back, for his sharp face features to be seen. His eyes were handsomely round and blue, his nose was roman, and his chin was to be cut upon if touched.

  
The two behind him was older, a man and woman. They were all dressed conservatively in suits and robes.

  
The youngest smiled as professor Sanders took the offered hand before letting go after a second. It was not as blinding as Patton, but friendly anyway.

  
“Professor Sanders, my name is Amhar Enright. This is Matheus Jackson and Amelia Neal, my associates from the Magical Culture Association, we are here on behalf of the newly created populist party of ‘Equal Party’ to talk about what is going on in the political world of the world’s wizarding societies as of this moment” the man, Amhar, said, his voice calm and soothing.

  
“Yes? Well, I’m in the middle of a class right now, but we can discuss further in my office afterwards?” professor Sanders suggested, gesturing to the students in the room.

  
Amhar only smiled, looking around at the fifth years watching them intently.

  
“You misunderstand me. We were asked by a selected few politicians from the ministry to come and talk about the situation at the school” he turned back to professor Sanders, who watched him skeptically. “To let them know what the shift could mean for their futures in a few years of course.”

  
Virgil watched as professor Sanders shifted his weight upon his feet, before answering. Still not convinced.

  
“And you have spoken to the headmistress?”

  
“She knows we are here. You can go talk to her if that would make you more at ease.”

  
The professor shook his head and stepped further back, gesturing for Amhar to step forward and start explaining. Amhar nodded gracefully and stepped forward, his hands clasped together at his front, standing tall and at ease, even in front of all the curious eyes.

  
“Hello everyone. As I told your teacher, my name is Amhar Enright, Amhar is just fine I don’t feel old enough to be called Mr. Enright.” A few Slytherin girls giggled together. “I’m sure most of you have heard of the political situation outside of Hogwarts’ walls that have been underway since around September 2018, where a very important historical and cultural piece was found in England. This have been discovered to be the mythical ruin of Camelot and to many, including myself, is believed to be a piece of evidence as to the myth of the era of the Once and Future King being more real than earlier believed.”

  
“He’s a loony” Jake whispered in his ear. Virgil shushed and pushed him back behind again.

  
“Does any of you know of this era?”

  
The students were looking among themselves, as Amhar regarded them patiently. He suddenly pointed to a Hufflepuff girl who had her hand slightly in the air.

  
“Uhm, the era of King Arthur and Merlin is believed to be the latest era of equality between all. Both wizards and muggles” she told them meekly.

  
Amhar nodded encouragingly.

  
“Exactly. You see there is this prophecy, and no not a myth, an actual druidic seer prophecy that was made millennia before even Arthur and Merlin’s time, that spoke of the coming of Emrys, or as you know him Merlin, and the Once and Future King Arthur. The druids speak of a coming of the Once and Future King. We already had the King in the past, from there the Once, but the King is also said to come in a time of need, therefore the Future” he explained. “You have to take myths with a grain of salt of course, but a prophecy is something not to be taken lightly. After months of research and centuries of theories, it’s believed that the time could very well be now, and with the evidence that the druidic communities of today have provided together with the fact that there have been created two literal political factions in over twenty countries in regards of what the fate of the Statue of Secrecy should be, in the span of not even half a year, one can only come to the conclusion that the evidence is piling even further and that the time to once again feel the embrace of equality has arrived at this point in time.”

  
Amhar pointed to Virgil, making his heart stutter.

  
“So, what you’re saying is, and correct me if I’m wrong, you’re saying that because of the findings of an old castle ruin and the history of Merlin and Arthur, the political world is divided on the terms of whether we, the wizarding society, should be exposed to the muggle world? When would that happen? Don’t we have a say in that?” Jake spoke up from behind him.

  
Virgil breathed out carefully, glad that it was not a random pointing to him.

  
Amhar smiled up at the critical Slytherin.

  
“A smart one I see, you would do well in politics.”

  
Jake huffed angrily, Virgil could feel his breath all the way unto his neck.

  
“But yes, the Equal Party believes that this is the time to work on bridging the gap between our two worlds and at one point create a world designed to be able to hold all of us together as one people. A world without the fear of a wizarding child exposing him or herself to muggles and getting expelled from the schools that should teach them control. Or for muggles to be attacked by forces they did not even know existed, whether that would be a witch, wizard or a magical creature does not matter, but the fact still stands! We know that this will take years, Rome was not built in one day, but we believe that the time to act is now! We believe that if we start spreading our message now, we will perhaps live in a world without segregation or negative views upon others that does not share your blood status, within the next twenty years. Ten if we’re lucky.”

  
From the silence in the room, Virgil knew that everyone was thinking about what they had just been told. He himself had often thought critically upon segregation in any form, whether it was from his own personal experience of being born of two worlds and felt the pain of having had to live with hatred turned toward him due to that, or the simple forms of divisions even from young ages, with acts such as the different houses at the school. If this was the true time of the Once and Future King, would it only be the wizarding and muggle societies that would be connected, or would the druidic communities do so as well? If the muggles became equals with the druids, that would mean that it did not matter who Virgil’s father was any longer?

  
But Amhar mentioned that the druids had provided evidence as well, that meant that Taliesin was involved, since it was only the leaders of the clans that had any contact with the ministry and other prominent outer forces. Why would he work toward an equal world with the muggles?

  
Virgil looked up, seeing Amhar answer a short question with a smile, from the group of the giggling Slytherins in the front. He felt his hand raise slowly. He had to know.

  
Amhar looked up, meeting his eyes at once.

  
“Yo-You said that the druids had provided evidence for the research” Amhar nodded, so Virgil continued. “That would mean that they have provided the true seer vision and that you know the true prophecy as well, but… I mean, it puts the true facts on the table and I think that this could mean that the druids believe that this is the time as well and they were not wrong the first time, I know that for a fact, but… does it mean that the druids are pushing for equality too? Do you know if they will join the wizarding and the muggle communities again if they were to become equal?”

  
Amhar’s eyes were suddenly lit with interest. It was like the ember of a passionate fire had started burning fiercely.

  
“You ask some great questions. How do you know so much about the druids’ means of involvement?” the young man asked, clearly attentive to Virgil.

  
“He’s a druid too!” came a shout from the Hufflepuff side, Virgil glanced witheringly at Patton who only grinned back.

  
“Truly?” Amhar’s smile grew. “My ancestors were druids too. They were of one of the families that sought refuge in the wizarding community in the 18th century, and because of that also cut their ties to the druidic society unfortunately.”

  
Virgil’s interest was piqued even further. He leaned forward unconsciously, wanting to be near a kin that seemed to be fighting for all kinds of people.

  
“Huh, that explains the name” he answered with a small smirk, succeeding in getting a chuckle from the other, that scratched the back of his neck.

  
“Yes, we have always kept the names rather... Old. It also helped me believe in a time of equality and peace and actually created my interest in the history and meaning of the Once and Future King. It kind of had to happen when you’re literally named after the son of King Arthur” Amhar told him, gaze never wavering. “But to answer your question. I truly believe that the druids have awaited this time ever since the prophecy was told for the first time. The druidic community have always been found to be the world’s scapegoat and have because of this been extremely wary of the other societies, not just the muggle one, but also the wizarding world. It has even been recorded in several journals of the day, that at the time of Camelot and the equality period, the druids of course sought out Merlin himself and helped him on his journey, but they kept to the shadows because of the fear that have been installed in them for millennia. My own personal opinion, is that I certainly believe that this is the time to join all three branches of the world and that the druidic society believes that too, otherwise they would not have meddled in this case overall.”

  
Amhar kept answering questions during the rest of the class, always with a serious tone and eloquent flowery words like that of a politician that knew his audience.

  
As the class ended, the students filed out and even though he wanted to talk more with the interesting man, he followed Patton out to meet up with Logan in the entrance hall. They sat at the first couple of steps of the grand staircase as they waited for the Ravenclaw, Patton talking excitedly about the Equal Party and how much he liked the idea of people working toward a world where no one would feel left out, and families could be joined together without lies.

  
Virgil agreed wholeheartedly, he especially liked how it could end up affecting himself positively in the end, if it all worked out.

  
A muscular hand pushed his head forward roughly, almost making his forehead connect with his knees. An annoying laughter sounded as the person walked closely by him. Virgil scowled up at the group of Gryffindors that looked mockingly back at him. Roman stood with a blank face, as Maurice clapped him on the shoulder with a laugh, trying to steer them toward the great hall.

  
Roman shook him off, smiling vainly at him.

  
“You go ahead, I have some things I have to do before joining you.”

  
Maurice looked at him confused, then his eyes went toward Virgil and Patton in suspicion for a few seconds.

  
“Sure” he said slowly, “I’ll see you in a bit man.”

  
Virgil watched as Roman waited for his group to leave completely, before looking back at the Slytherin, a small blush on his face, and walking closer to them, leaning against the stone rail next to Virgil.

  
“Maurice haven’t changed after the holidays I see” Virgil quipped, scratching the back of his head for emphasis as he looked accusingly up at the Gryffindor.

  
Roman shifted a bit around, his face blanking for a bit. Virgil knew that his friend was a sour subject and that the blonde would not want to answer him.

  
“Are you waiting for Logan? What does he have now?”

  
“He has Magical Theory at the sixth floor right now, but I think he’ll be down here in a minute” Patton answered happily, moving to a beat only he could hear.

  
Virgil moved closer to Patton, slapping his hand on the bare step on his right.

  
“Sit down Princey, you’re making me antsy by standing there.”

  
Roman apparently did not have to be told twice, as he quickly squeezed down on the spot, sitting closer than Virgil had believed he would. He could practically sit in the Gryffindor’s lap if he wanted to have more space to himself, and Patton was not moving, only smirking slightly to himself on Virgil’s left.

  
Roman leaned back, supporting his weight on his left hand behind Virgil. He felt hot all of the sudden and his butterflies battled again in his stomach. If he leaned a bit to his right, he could lean against Roman’s broad chest, smell his wonderful musk hidden beneath his expensive cologne and maybe feel his strong arms surrounding him in a protective hug.

  
Nope!

  
Virgil stiffened. This was not the time for daydreaming. He only just realized that he had been leaning a tiny bit toward the other unconsciously, but that was not happening! Why did Roman have to bring that heat? He felt his blood boiling underneath the skin on his face.

  
He almost jumped out of his skin when he felt a thump circle the lower part of his back. He was not about to turn to look at the Gryffindor, he was all too intensely aware of everything that Roman did at the moment. His breathing pattern, the heat coming off of him, his enticing smell and his burning touch. It was too much.

  
But he loved it.

  
Patton snickered next to him.

  
Virgil closed his eyes and tried to forget that his friend cold read his emotions as clear as the words in the Daily Prophet. A thought came to him in that moment. Feeling Roman’s calm, hidden touch. If Patton knew what Virgil was feeling for Roman, which he clearly did with all the teasing looks he was given, maybe he could also feel Roman’s? he would have to ask him when they were alone next time.

  
“Oh! Virgil!” a voice greeted.

  
Virgil looked up perplexed, he had heard that voice before.

  
The three guests that had come into their History class, had just walked down the stairs together with professor McGonagall, and Amhar had walked around the others to move in front of Virgil, a surprised yet glad expression on his face, his hand held out.  
Roman’s touch disappeared, he acknowledged briefly.

  
“Hi Amhar” he said, standing and walking down the few steps to take his hand momentarily in greeting. His hand was not as calloused as Roman’s, the skin clearly being taken good care of, but it was still a strong grip that left an impression on Virgil.  
“I really liked your questions in the class, it’s wonderful to be able to talk with a fellow druid, even if it’s a bit surprising to meet one here outside of the clans” Amhar told him with a smile.

  
Virgil smiled a bit timidly back, not really knowing what to do with himself.

  
“It’s a bit of a long story really…”

  
“You don’t have to tell me if it makes you uncomfortable” the older druid quickly assured him. “Actually, the reason I really wanted to talk with you, I was going to send a letter to the school for permission to have a meet up with you. I wanted to ask you a bit about the storms that happened at Halloween, since you probably know a bit about the meaning behind them, being a druid and all, and you are the only druid that was at this location when they happened.”

  
It felt like his gut would spill open unto the floor, smearing it in his insides, blood and puke, because holy Avalon he had not thought of that awful day for what felt like a month and to suddenly being remembering it made him feel sick to his stomach.  
In a way he wanted to answer Amhar. To give him something useable and to show him that Virgil maybe could be worth something for the cause when he got out of school. But the phantom feeling of the hand coming down upon his collarbone and the sight of the tattoo the day after, was brushing against his senses accompanied by the fear of Taliesin.

  
“I think you should stop asking him about it. It was a very traumatic experience for all of us and I think I speak on behalf of Virgil here, that he would rather not think about it” Roman told the older blonde off, his tone ice cold.

  
“I can speak for myself Roman” Virgil mumbled, pushing away the Gryffindor that had come to his side, and looking back up at Amhar whose eyes seemed a bit disappointed by Roman’s meddling.

  
Amhar looked back at Virgil, a smile in place once again.

  
“It’s quite alright, it’s always good to have friends to back you up” Amhar drew something from his inner pocket. A small piece of paper with the logo of the Equal Party and his name and address on it.  
Virgil took it gently from his hand.

  
“If you want to talk further, not necessarily about Halloween, I would also like to talk to you about druidism and such since I’m not meant to take real contact to the druids, and you probably also have that kind of deal settled over you if I’m not mistaken?” Virgil blushed at the small smirk, nodding as Amhar began walking away, waving goodbye.

  
“I hope to hear from you soon Virgil, it will be interesting to talk casually with a fellow druidic soul!”

  
They watched him leave through the giant doors to the outside with the rest of his group, professor McGonagall glancing back at the students before following the group to escort them outside of Hogwarts gates.  
Virgil was about to look at the card again, the name of Amhar Enright standing in deep black against the white paper, just as it was plucked from his hands and Roman was stretching above his head, reading it with an angry face.

  
“Hey! Give it back!” Virgil lunged for it, but Roman stretched even further, away from his reach making Virgil jump into his chest by accident. Roman took a step back, bending in his knees to gain his balance again, reaching up with his other hand to catch Virgil around his waist before they both fell.

  
He took his chance and used his weight to push Roman further down, managing in gripping the card and power roll off the Gryffindor and step away from him quickly.

  
He had always hated when people took his stuff, it did not matter if he had caught feelings toward them or hated them. No one touched his stuff!

  
“I don’t think you should write to him” Roman told him lowly, eyebrows drawn down. Virgil scoffed at that, putting the card in his wand pocket.

  
“Good thing you don’t have a say in that” he snarked, satisfied in the fact that he managed to rile Roman up, his face turning red.

  
“Virgil I mean it! Don’t write to him, he gives me the heebie jeebies! You can’t trust him.”

  
Virgil turned away from the blonde, to look straight at the squirming empath beside them.

  
“What do you think Pat? You read his emotions right? Does he give you the ‘heebie jeebies’?”

  
“Uhm.” Patton looked between his two friends, not really wanting to side with any of them but knowing that none of them would reach a compromise on this matter soon. “I-I didn’t get a good read on him, it seemed a bit foggy but from what I got he seemed genuine?”

  
Virgil smiled victoriously back at the Gryffindor, watching him throw his hands dramatically in the air, his voice loud and exasperated.

  
“How can feelings be foggy?! I’m telling you, this guy is not worth talking to, he’s dangerous!”

  
“Why?”

  
Roman stopped his triad, looking down at Virgil who had narrowed his eyes back at him.

  
“Why?” Roman parroted.

  
“Is it because he’s of druidic heritage? Probably a half breed? Is that why he’s untrustworthy?” Virgil sneered, anger beginning to bubbling.

  
“What? No! That’s not- why would you think that?!”

  
“I don’t know Princey, why don’t you tell me?”

  
“Why are you making me the bad guy? I didn’t- “

  
“Guys! Please stop you are upsetting Patton.”

  
The Ravenclaw walked down at the last couple of steps, books piled in his arms and a stern stare turned in their direction. Patton smiled meekly up at the other thankfully, his cheeks having gotten a rosy shade, before looking apologetic at the two others of their group.

  
Virgil sighed, knowing that he was out of line. He looked to Roman who looked just as guilty as he felt himself do.

  
“Sorry Roman.”

  
The other shrugged, giving him a gently push with his hand on his lower back toward the great hall. The others following behind with Patton speed talking, telling Logan about what had just happened.  
Before they reached the great doors, Roman bend down to whisper beside Virgil’s head. His breath caressing the shell of his ear.

  
“I’m not done talking about this, we’re just tabling it for now. Meet me at the top of the Astronomy Tower at eight tonight. Don’t be late.”

 

 

  
Virgil ran up the circular staircase as fast as he could, knowing that he was already a few minutes late for the meeting. He was nervous, every step felt like agony to his anxious mind about meeting Roman in the Astronomy Tower. Alone. Talking. Alone. Alone!

  
He was sure that Roman could hear his running steps by now, his breathing being gasped out of him in great bursts. Being active was never really his thing, running around often seemed pointless. Perhaps he should rethink that, gain some muscle, some strength so that he would be able to show off. Maybe Roman would appreciate it.

  
He blushed at the thought.

  
As he came to the last couple of steps, he slowed down to walk slowly up, his legs burning, and lungs caught on fire. He stepped up unto the platform, taking a few steps forward before stopping in the darkness. The only light coming from the balcony where the starlight was shining from. It was a beautiful starry night.

  
He heaved for his breath a couple more times, drying the sweat off from his brow with the sleeve of his school sweater. It was eight, right?

  
“Roman?” he whispered into the silent air.

  
What looked to be fireflies suddenly erupted around the silent room, soaring in between the astrological mechanisms and clock works, lighting up a dim path to the balcony where Roman was sat on a fluffy, wine red blanket, his wand hanging casually from the hand on his bend knee.

  
“I thought I told you not to be late” the Gryffindor teased, his eyes gleaming with a golden shine instead of the chocolate color they normally were. It was breathtaking. If he had any breath to be taken that is.

  
He shrugged, breathing in deeply before walking over to the blonde, examining the blanket he had brought. There was a plate of chocolate chip cookies too, probably stolen from the kitchen.

  
“I ran the whole way though” he told him plainly, sitting down. His legs were killing him, and he groaned out, choosing to lay down instead. “My body is protesting because of it, you should be happy that I’m this willing to sacrifice my comfort for you.”

  
Roman chuckled and reached out for a cookie, taking a bite and looking up at the dark sky. Virgil turned on his side, looking up at Roman. He knew that the other wanted to talk more about Amhar, he could feel the negative tension coming off of him in lazy waves. Better rip it off and get it over with.

  
“So… you wanted to discuss this?”

  
Roman sighed, still not looking at him. Virgil could get behind that, he did not really feel for another fight too, he would rather play nice and just be in the Gryffindor’s company, wanting to have all of his attention on him for once.  
“There isn’t really anything to discuss, I just don’t want you contacting him.”

  
Virgil was about to make a tired retort. He had to defend himself and his free will to make his own choices. Maybe he should tell Roman why it rubbed him the wrong way to have people tell him what to do and not to do. How it felt like a punch to the gut, and how it in the bigger picture was like he was not able to be his own person if he was not able to choose who to talk to, or which tattoo to get or where to live.

  
“I know that you have this interest in him because he has a background that maybe reminds you of your own, and maybe it’s the thought of having someone to lean on that knows what you’re going through and that’s comforting” Roman kept going. He leaned back on his elbow and moved to lay on his side to look at Virgil comfortably, his gaze worried. “But Virgil, I know he is bad news. I can’t explain it, but there’s something about him that I can’t put my finger on. It’s like this hideous darkness that wants to hurt you and I can’t let that happen to you.”

  
He took Virgil’s hand, caressing the back of it with his thumb, looking down at it instead of watching the myriad of feelings on Virgil’s face.

  
“Do you not think it’s fishy that even Patton can’t get a good read on him? He can read everyone for Merlin’s sake! He told me that he can even read animals, so why can’t he feel the emotions coming from him?”

  
Virgil was silent for a second, upset with what Roman was saying, but calm because of the way Roman was touching him without hiding it. He sighed through his nose, trying to relax with the boy he liked next to him.

  
“I don’t want to fight” he whispered into the cold air.

  
Roman let go of his hand to move the plate away, scooching his body closer to snuggle against Virgil’s and taking his hand again, relaxing them both upon Virgil’s chest.

  
“We will not fight” he told him slowly, the caressing starting up again, though the closeness to Roman made him tense up a bit anyway. “I’m only saying this because I want you to be safe. I need you to be safe Virgil. And if I can do something, anything, to make sure that you stay that way, I will do it. Even if you’ll get mad at me, I will not let anything hurt you… I have done that too much myself already” the last part was whispered, and he had looked away again.

  
Virgil felt a lump in his throat. This almost felt like a… confession.

  
“Roman.”

  
The Gryffindor took a few seconds before he finally looked down at the Slytherin, watching the stars dance in the grey depths. Beautiful.

  
Virgil swallowed. His mouth suddenly gone dry.

  
“What are we?” he whispered, voice almost too airy to hear.

  
Roman swallowed too, licking his lips and leaned down until their noses almost touched.

  
“I don’t think we are just friends Sir Darkness” his voice rumbled teasingly.

  
Virgil felt flames ignite in his chest, his butterflies soaring high and invisible above and around them. He did not want to think of the negatives tonight. They would disagree with each other about this and many other things, but tonight he wanted to be consumed by the present. He wanted to be with Roman, feel this moment without thinking about anything else.

  
Their eyes were locked, both half lidded. Wanting. He lifted a hand, touching Roman’s warm neck and brushing his thin fingers up and through the golden, thick locks of the Gryffindor, pushing down gently.  
“Just kiss me Princey” he whispered, just before their lips finally met.

  
He had never expected fireworks going off or anything spectacular. It was a first kiss between two people and it was his first kiss overall, he did not know what to do though Roman guided him through it gently. Teaching him. He did not feel fireworks, though he felt his butterflies explode and heat build in his body.

  
Roman’s lips were soft. His kiss experienced. It did not surprise him, Roman was popular after all and a sixth year. He had, had girlfriends before, but this was now, this was with Virgil.  
And Virgil wanted more.

  
He pressed more firmly against the Gryffindor’s mouth, trying to convey that it was not enough to do chaste kisses, he wanted more but he did not know what to do to get it.  
Roman huffed a laugh, the breath falling from his nose unto Virgil’s face. He tipped further over Virgil’s form, practically laying on top of him and opened his mouth a bit further, nipping at Virgil’s bottom lip.  
He sighed, glad there was a kiss level in between chaste and tongue. He suddenly became aware that his hands were roaming around, one kept in the other’s hair, switching between tightening and petting, his other was moving around the muscular back, he could easily feel the muscle ripple each time Roman moved, even through the cloak and sweater and probably shirt he was wearing.

  
Oh. My. Holy. Avalon.

  
He was making out with Roman freaking Ayers.

  
Holy shit.

  
Roman began giggling and they separated. The Gryffindor’s hair was mussed, some pieces falling in his eyes and his lips were pink from the kissing. He kept giggling.

  
“What?” Virgil asked, his voice gruff.

  
Roman shook his head and gave him another chaste kiss. Then another. And a third, all the while caressing the Slytherin’s hair, moving his bangs out of his face and letting them fall around his head.

  
“I can literally tell what you are thinking” Roman chuckled. “It’s not that big of a deal to be honest, but I’ve been wanting to do this for too long, so I can somewhat see where you are coming from.”

  
Roman quickly leaned down to kiss him again, before he could manage to protest and exclaim his embarrassment. His whole face was firing up.

  
They laid there for some time, exchanging kisses. It was very romantic to be honest, what with the magically conjured fireflies and the stars above them, but it was also fun. It was a learning experience for sure, they bumped noses more than once and clashed teeth a lot more in their eagerness. They held each other as close as they could get, at one point getting tangled with the blanket when Virgil wanted to be laying upon Roman instead of underneath him, and his leg got caught, tangling it with Roman’s too and managed to tip over the plate of cookies in the process.

  
When they stopped, somewhere after curfew definitely, they were cuddled upon the remnants of the bunched-up blanket and looking up at the stars, Virgil laying comfortably with his head upon Roman’s chest, listening to his steady heartbeat and his strong arm around him protectively.

  
Roman was messing with his bangs again, they were surely standing on end by now, but Virgil did not care. This was perfect. Not in his wildest dreams would he have thought that this would actually happen, but he was glad that they had found that they had feelings for each other. Even though it had not been specifically said, Virgil knew this was what it felt like. Being in love.

  
Roman shifted around, sighing slowly. Virgil felt the rumble before he heard his words.

  
“Do you still have his card?”

  
Virgil stifled slightly at the reminder. He wanted to brush it off, but he knew that Roman would not let it go. He was too stubborn for his own good.  
“Yea” he sighed, turning his face into Roman’s chest. “It’s in my pocket.”

  
Roman hummed.

  
“I know that you don’t agree with me on this but… can you promise me to throw it out? I just, he’s no good, you have to believe me.”

  
He felt his mood slump, and his chest burning with an anger he could control at the moment. Thankfully. He just wanted to decide for himself, was that so bad? Just for once, decide for himself whether he should do something or not. But he did not want to destroy the mood either. If this would make Roman happy, then this was only a small thing, right?

  
Virgil sat up slowly, feeling Roman’s arm fall to his waist but not letting go. He felt Roman’s eyes on him as he pulled the card out from his pocket, looking at it one last time before holding it up toward the dark sky.

  
“Bærnan” he whispered to the air, the spell singing over his tongue, making the card catch fire between his fingers.

  
They watched it burn until all there was left was ash on the floor, Virgil having put it down when the flames were about to touch his fingers.

  
Roman wiggled his way over to him, sitting up and kissing his cheek softly, pulling him in close with his arms surrounding the Slytherin.

  
“Thank you” he mumbled against his ear.

  
Virgil smiled softly, turning his head and kissed him on the lips again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Playlist for The Crest of Merlin - a song for each chapter:
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=x6wMinZPiHo&list=PLFZqzIR8tuAzMAnwsIAYEgwGUyDR-ILG9


	10. Chapter 10

“Hurry up! I can’t believe this, holy fucking shit!” Virgil hissed as he power walked down the main street of Hogsmeade, the three others following close behind.

  
“Don’t cuss Virgil! Think of the kids!” Patton admonished through puffs of breath. He gestured to the third years looking strangely at the mixed group hurrying by them. Virgil ignored him, only focused on where they should have been almost ten minutes ago. How could this happen?! This was bad, this was really bad.

  
They were late, they were so late!

  
He did not even know how they were late, they went out at the same time as everyone else! Had Logan’s timeline been wrong? Should they have told Elethea to meet them half an hour later? This was bad. How unprofessional. Making plans with a clan leader only to be late. Great!

  
Virgil started speeding up again, though still not running like Patton was forced to do now. He could see The Three Broomsticks now, its wooden sign polished and gleaming in the dim sunlight.

  
“Slow down Virge! There’s no need to run the last couple of steps, we’ll apologize in half a minute anyway” Roman said behind him. Virgil chose to ignore him as well, walking straight in through the entrance without glancing back at the others. He could hear an affronted sound from the Gryffindor.

  
Even without the situation he had to carefully detangle them out off, he was not going to think of Roman’s feelings, since he was plain and simple irritated with him at the moment.

  
Yes, they had private outings together, and yes they could be perceived as boyfriends, but it was nothing official, since Roman wanted to keep that stupid front he had, where he ignored Virgil’s very existence when people were around them, and only had something to do with him when they were alone or in passing if Patton or, sometimes not often, Logan was with him.  
He was apparently still either too much of a Slytherin or to big of a loser, for Roman freaking Ayers to have anything to do with. And not to forget about his stupid friends! So, yes. Virgil was mad. Roman was on thin ice today and Virgil had started giving him a freezingly could shoulder the day before, where Maurice had jabbed at him again and Roman had, had the galls to laugh at the ‘jokes’ just to keep up his façade.

  
Virgil did see his guilty look, but he really hoped that Roman had watched his pissed off expression carefully too.

  
It was one thing to do it when they had just been friends, but now that they were more it was just too much not to get miffed about. Officially they were not even friends!  
Virgil huffed and shook his head in frustration.

  
Now was not the time.

  
He glanced around the packed room, looking for something that could look like a druidic robe. There were a lot of students, sitting around the tables, drinking butterbeer and talking in their small friend groups.  
After a few sweeps around the room, he found the druidic leader sitting in one of the corners, a cup of something hot in front of her. She did not wear her official robes this time, but was dressed in casual druidic clothes, in grey and green colors.  
Virgil walked over there, knowing that the others were right behind him. Elethea looked up with a small smile in greeting when he sat down in the chair in front of her, his friends fanning out to sit on the chairs next to him. Roman scooching his chair closer to Virgil’s on the right side.

  
“I’m so sorry that we’re late, it took a bit longer than we thought.”

  
“Hello to you too Virgil.”

  
“Elethea” he greeted, with big eyes and a low, respectful nod.

  
Elethea took a sip from her, coffee? and the nodded, returning the acknowledgement as she put down the cup.

  
“No need to apologize, I am not as stern as Norma or Taliesin” she smirked at him, then began nodding at the others, asking for their names and giving her own in return, before finishing up the greetings and looking back at the younger druid.  
“It is good to see you in better circumstances” she remarked. “How are you feeling?”

  
He shrugged nonchalantly, thankfully beginning to catch his breath again, pulling the box out of his bag and laying it gently on the table for her to see. It was why they were here, and he was not good with small talk or exchanging small pleasantries.  
“Better, at the moment” he told her as he watched her take the box into her hands to inspect it, turning it this way and that.

  
“The reason for us to reach out to you, is that we in the end got help from a teacher to distinguish the locking charms and from there we gathered that since it is a druidic heirloom, it would be Old Magic spell that is used” Logan adjusted his glasses. “Which unfortunately the school library does not have any resources for or knowledge about. A shame really.”

  
Elethea nodded thoughtfully, a wistful smile on her lips.

  
“I can tell you right away that It is Old Magic” she turned it around again. “How long have you tried to crack the mystery?”

  
Ooh.

  
Virgil side glanced at Logan on his left, sitting next to Patton. The boy was thinning his mouth and looked very unhappy with the question. He knew that it was hard for the Ravenclaw to admit defeat in regards of his pursuit of all kinds of knowledge, this one especially.

  
“I… I will admit that it took far longer than what it normally would when I solve different projects” he answered through gritted teeth, looking at the table instead of at the druid leader.  
Elethea chuckled, earning a few surprised looks from them.

  
“It is alright to ask for help to get through the obstacles life, and in this case, knowledge, puts in your way. I am a teacher young one, I have had types like you in my presence before. Seekers. wonderers. Pursuers. It is the ones with the true curiosity and the ones that often wants to find the things by themselves and be the first to do it. You are young, and you will learn to look beyond your specific arrogance at some point but know that it is alright and that your curiosity is a great attribute.”  
That was unexpected.

  
“Thank… you?”

  
Patton laughed out loudly, his eyes narrowed into slits due to his widely stretched smile. Virgil snorted, hiding it away behind a hand, finally feeling at ease for the first time they since they arrived.  
A hand came to rest gently on his thigh. He stiffened a bit but ignored it the best he could.

  
“Logan! You can’t say it like a question!” Patton laughed, before looking at the druid with shining eyes. “He really means it though, he just doesn’t know how to show it, but he feels happy because of your very kind words.”  
“Patton” Logan complained in his mumbling, monotonic voice.

  
The silence took over, but Virgil watched Elethea like a hawk to make sure that she was careful enough with his heirloom. But her hands were gentle, her touch almost non-existing and looking like she used magic to make it fly in between her grasp. Her hands were wrinkles and dark-skinned, liver spots were far in between, though there were a few and her nails were short and cracked like a workers.

  
The hand on his thigh pressed gently down before moving away with the Gryffindor that stood up.

  
“Well while we wait for the result of your examination, I propose that we get some drinks ourselves. Virgil, will you join me?”

  
Roman’s charming smile was on point as always, but Virgil could easily spot the nervousness in his eyes by now, which had not been an easy feat to learn, but he had managed it. The way his left eye crinkled slightly more than the other and his eyebrows were a bit more pinched.

  
Good.

  
Virgil felt an upcoming smirk but managed to hide the upturn of his mouth. In a wicked way he was pleased with making Roman nervous, it was like getting his sweet, sweet revenge.  
After a couple of seconds of just staring at him, and Logan and Patton having given them their orders, two butterbeers, Patton’s ice-cold, Virgil took pity on his somewhat boyfriend and stood from his chair.

  
“Come on Princey, let’s get those drinks.”

  
They walked in between tables and the crowd of students and renters of the rooms from upstairs that had come down. Even though they were in a crowded, warm room, Virgil could still feel Roman’s own special heat. It was rather distinct and came with the eyes that he knew followed his every move, which made him very conscious about where he stepped and how he walked.

  
They ended up standing side by side at one of the ends of the bar, waiting for the bartender to see them, though not in an awful hurry. Virgil relaxed his arms upon the counter, sighing deeply. It was weird to have his two worlds collide once more, that never happened back when he was still a part of their society, but he had not had any outside friends or friends in general at that point so it kind of make sense.  
His musings were disturbed when Roman took a small step closer to him and bended slightly toward him to speak.

  
“Are you mad at me?” he asked, not looking at the Slytherin.

  
Sweet, sweet revenge.

  
“Yes” he told him indifferently.

  
“Why?”

  
“You ignore me.”

  
“So, you ignore me back?”

  
“Yes.”

  
Roman bumped their shoulders together.

  
“You are not ignoring me now though” he teased.

  
“…Do you want me to?” Virgil snarked in a hissing whisper. Roman held up his hands in defeat, a grimace set in place on his beautiful face.

  
“I would rather not.”

  
Tension came over them while they both waited for the other to speak. Virgil was certainly not going to, Roman had to get himself sorted out of this mess. He was not in a forgiving mindset right now, pointed out by the scowl that rested on his face as he murdered the oblivious bartender with his eyes.

  
A finger poked him in the side, making him jump and suddenly Roman was close as he would be in a public place. Their arms and shoulders almost touching.

  
“Please don’t be mad at me, look at this face and tell me you don’t care about it any longer?” and then the blonde turned on his most expressive puppy eyes impression, which was impressively horrible. Virgil could not stand it. He looked witheringly at the Gryffindor.

  
“Are you still mad?”

  
“Roman”

  
“Are you?”

  
“It doesn’t work like that.”

  
“What about now?”

  
“Roman!” he laughed loudly, smacking his hand against his mouth as soon as the sound left him. Roman stood back with the puppy eyes long gone and in its place a devious smirk instead.

  
“Gotcha!”

  
Virgil pushed him back by the face, making the other laugh boisterously and coming back to give him a one-armed hug that Virgil reveled in. that stupid moron. It got him every time.  
He looked up at other, just as they slipped away from each other. The bartender was walking toward them, a washrag on her shoulders and sweat on her wrinkled brow.

  
“Can we meet in the tower tonight?” he asked quickly.

  
Roman shook his head, giving him a regretful smile.

  
“I have quidditch practice tonight.”

  
“Maybe I can come and watch?”

  
“Virge…”

  
Right. He was not welcome to watch. It would be ‘suspicious’ for a Slytherin to come and watch the rival team, even though the sport did not do much for him and everyone else probably would not care. Patton went sometimes.  
“But we can meet tomorrow night?”

  
Virgil sighed, knowing that it was only when Roman could or wanted to see him that they were able to meet up. He nodded, still wanting to spend time with him, and still looking forward to it even though there was a bit strained irritation underneath.  
They came back with a cup of hot cocoa for Virgil, a spicy kind of carrot juice for Roman, Virgil no idea how he could drink that but apparently it was the best! A cold butterbeer for Patton and a regular for Logan.  
The Ravenclaw and Elethea was in the middle of an intelligent discussion regarding the box, Patton sat silently observing with a satisfied smile on his face. He was also the only one that had time to say thanks for the drinks, as the two of them sat down.

  
“So, what’s the sitch?”

  
Patton almost flung himself at him, his mouth wide open and hyperaware eyes that made Virgil a bit uncomfortable.

  
“Did you just… Was that from Kim Possible?”

  
“Yea, Parker showed me the show” he said with a wry smile.

  
“I have no idea as to what you are referring to, but Elethea have found that there are in fact three spells upon the box, and if I do say so myself, my thought of there being a charm that locked the two spells together was therefore correct” Logan told them, a small proud smile trying to work its way up.

  
Virgil looked to Elethea, who started speaking, moving the box to the middle of the table where she touched it once with a finger and the golden lines surrounding it started glowing.

  
“This is an average spell called Se Goldweard Bæt Rápincel. It is usually used for things that needs to be kept safe, where a basic lock and key seems too ineffective, usually this would be enough and it can only be broken with an unlocking charm” she told them, then waved her hand in a circle above the box.

  
Two lines in red bled out from the top and flowed down its sides like a ribbon upon a wrapped gift. On the top a black circle twisted around lazily in between the gold and the red.

  
“The black sphere is the charm that locks the locking spell and the bloodspell together. It is called Séo Blæcce Trendel and is a quite advanced spell, unbreakable to even most druids.” She pointed to the red lines. “These, are the physical manifistations of the blood spell. This spell makes it so that the only ones that can open this box are a blood relative and with the other spells in place, I would say that the one that had locked this thing inside hoped for a powerful kin to open it.”  
When she moved to touch the box, the black sphere quickly moved through the gold and red, reacting to her magic and setting itself in place against her.

  
“What is the blood spell called?” Patton asked.

  
“It does not have a name other than being a blood spell. To work around it, Virgil here would have to use a specific spell and some of his own blood for it to work.”

  
She looked to him.

  
“Other than that you will have to find a Gateway and a Place of Three to have the ceremony. You will have to focus the energies of the magic surrounding you to create a strong connection to the bloodspell and the Séo Blæcce Trendel. I will recommend the Black Lake since it has already had magical occurences of Old and you have gotten a connection from that. With a blood spell, what you have to remember is that what always factors in is that it can only be broken once the creator is dead and that is why you need the Gateway as well as an Afghnite crystal to connect with your kin.”

  
She touched the box once making the lines dissapeared, and got to her feet slowly. They all stood, Roman quickly consumed the last of his juice as he got up.

  
“Write to me when you feel that you are ready for the ceremony, gathered all of the things for it just like a regular one, and feel that you have practiced the spells enough. I will help you when it is time” she walked around the table, starting her trek to the exit when Virgil jumped through the others to get to her side.

  
“Wait! You mentioned some other spell for the blood spell? And how much blood would I have to use?” he asked, the words falling clumsily and frantic.

  
It was like she hesitated for a second before a small smile broke out.

  
“Se blód self cnosl gewill inforlætan mec. And it does not have to be a lot, though that depends on how much the one who placed spell used” She stood for a bit, regarding him with sceptic eyes. Then she turned around without a word and disappeared through the door.

  
They watched her leave before they sat down again.

  
Virgil looked at the table in thought, holding his warm cup in his hands. The others did not say anything, the only sounds coming from everyone else in the establishment.

  
It seemed that the blood spell would be a bit difficult, both learning the rhythm of the spell itself but also for the fact that Elethea had been quite vague in how much blood he would have to tap from himself. It depending on the one creating it? How much blood could that be? What if he had a crazy ancestor who died due to blood loss?

  
He started worrying his lower lip.

  
“I had no idea what those spells meant” Patton chuckled, breaking the silence.

  
“Exactly! What did the one for the blood spell mean?” Roman asked, pinching him in the side to get his attention. Virgil flinched from touch, waving at his face to get him to stop. Roman understood, leaving his side in peace with a huffed laugh.  
“It was actually really poetic” Virgil told them, furrowing his brow as he kept looking down at the table. “Not that it rhymed in the Old Tongue, but in English it can be translated as ‘the blood of kin will let me in’.”

 

 

  
Virgil was for once shoveling his food as he tried to finish as quickly as possible, so that he could meet up with Logan and Patton afterwards at the library where they would work on the box project. After close to half a year, they were finally able to move forward and knew what to do to get it open, which he looked very much forward to, curiosity peeked once again.

  
Even though he was in a good mood, he could not say that he was not disappointed in how he did not manage to get Elethea alone and ask her about his mother. His grandmother had not talked much about her, though he of course knew her name some other smaller specifics about her personality. She had mentioned that he had his mother’s snark, every time he had backtalked her, and he had seen pictures of her from before she moved to Amesbury to study with Elethea.

  
It would have been good to know more, though it was not something he craved more than anything. He had not had anything to do with her, what with her and his father having left him at the druid’s mercy not long after he was born.  
As he contemplated his family history, while simultaneously focusing on not choking on his oatmeal, the owls arrived with the mail, flying around tooting and throwing packages at the students and some of the teachers.

  
Virgil briefly looked up as a rolled-up newspaper arrived for Roman. The boy was as handsome as ever, his smile charming and eyes lit up with the morning sun that came in through the windows. Their eyes met for just a moment and Virgil got sent a small smile, which made his stomach doing flips again. He was about to smirk back, not wanting Roman to know how flustered he made him, when a beautiful snow-white owl landing carefully next to him with a letter bound to its leg.

  
He and all of his dorm mates stopped eating for a moment, looking to each other to discern whether the owl was for them or not. The owl tooted at Virgil, shaking its leg toward him and watched him intensely with its deep, golden eyes.  
“Guess it’s for you V” Jake said, starting up on his corn flakes again, while scribbling furiously on an assignment for the next day.

  
Well.

  
Virgil began pulling the letter from the leather band it was bound to, shortly looking at Roman who looked quizzically back before being pulled into a conversation with Maurice and Freddy.

  
Who could have written to him? It could not be Elethea, she specifically told them to write to her when they were ready, and they had not even begun yet. Who could it be? His curiosity sparked, and he quickly got a hold of the letter, the owl flying away with another soft toot, as he wrecked the envelope before thinking that maybe the address was written on the backside.

  
He let it fall gently to the table, busy with unfolding the letter to read.

  
It was very pretty handwriting.

 

  
Hello Virgil.

  
I was wondering if you had lost my card, and if so do not worry, I thought that I would give you the opportunity to write me back if I send a letter first.  
I hope that this letter reaches you since I only wrote ‘for Virgil Morgan, Hogwarts’ on it and trusted my owl way too much.  
How are you? I know from experience that Hogwarts can be somewhat of a challenge if you have the mentality of a druid, and I can only guess how it could be for you, since I at least have lived outside of the community my whole life and only have been brought up with a few traditions myself.

  
I do not think that I told you this, we did not talk much to be honest and I was supposed to be a professional on job, but I was a Gryffindor a few years back. I have met a few others with druidic heritage through my work, some of them also having been to Hogwarts and one from Castelobruxo as well! That is the wizarding school of Brazil if you did not know it.  
But I have never met one that was still in school, and if you have any difficulty with that and the prejudice I know can be there, I just wanted to reach my hand out and let you know that I will gladly help out with whatever I can or if you have any questions I will answer to the best of my abilities.

  
I hope you will write back, and I would very much like to discuss further with you about druidism, the Equal Party and everything in between.

  
Sincerely  
Amhar Enright.

 

  
He could not believe that Amhar had written to him, he could only stare for a couple of seconds, mind reeling and gut getting the feeling of excitement running all over the place. What should he do? Should he write back? Should he just destroy the letter and never think about it again?

  
Virgil looked up to find his kind of boyfriend in the crowd of students. He was still in the middle of a conversation, something either serious or annoying, his face was scrunched up.  
He had promised had he not? But if he thought about it, he had never said that he would not contact Amhar, he only burned the card when Roman had asked him to.  
The envelope was folded gently, finding a new home in his wand pocket.

  
He would figure this out later.

 

 

  
“I cannot believe that we have to acquire an afghanite crystal! I feel as if we are not getting the full picture of this so-called ceremony and the breaking of the blood spell, listen to this!” Logan slammed the book about magical stones and their effects he had been reading, down upon the poor table they were sat at.

  
“… A high vibration stone that enhances multi-dimensional journeying, Afghanite facilitates bringing back guidance from the highest sources. It opens and aligns the brow, soma, alta major, crown, stellar gateway and soul star chakras so that the soul is fully aware in whatever dimension it is operating” he looked at them with wide crazed eyes.

  
Virgil looked up from his writing, remembering to shield the parchment from their eyes, anxiously still feeling the guilt as if he did something wrong, though he was certain that he did not.

  
“What does that mean?” he asked.

  
Patton had also stopped his doodling, looking as if he wanted to reach over to calm the Ravenclaw down.

  
“It means! That from what I can gather, this stone will help the user travel through the veils of the world and still be aware of the fact! Where do you think your consciousness would end up when we are playing with spells that has to do with your ancestors?!”  
The air felt like it was punched from his lungs.

  
“Avalon” he gasped, eyes as wide as the Ravenclaw’s.

  
“Is that possible?” Patton asked confused.

  
Logan shook his head, slumping down over the table, his arms outstretched in front of him and his chin holding his head up.

  
“It should not be possible to move from our world to the afterlife without death being the only way, but… there has been instances. Alchemists such as Nicholas Flamel that has been dappling in this kind of work. But I guess that with this, where it is not the mortal body that moves through the veil, but the mind of the soul itself… perhaps it is plausible. But it is rather disconcerting that we have not been informed about this. Furthermore, we do not even know how dangerous it can end up getting for Virgil.”

  
Funnily enough, he did not feel nervous or dread about the possibility of traveling through the veil. Normally his anxious nature would have been through the roof, questions about whether he had to do it or if he could still bail, or straight up just stop the project at once. Now though, he felt nothing really.

  
It was overwhelming in an underwhelming kind of way to be honest. He felt surprised or perhaps a mild shock, but he was a morbid sense of curiosity as well. What would it be like on the other side? Would he meet his grandmother again?  
Could he come back?

  
Was it a possibility to get stuck over there? If he did… would he die in this world?

  
A cough broke him out from his mind and he blinked back into reality where Patton was squirming in his seat.

  
“Maybe we shouldn’t do it kiddo… I don’t like the risks, and we don’t even know what’s in the box, you’ll still have it just not knowing what it is. Wouldn’t that be enough?” he asked timidly.

  
He did not like how fearful Patton sounded and how uncertain Logan looked. It was not like them. he knew that it was a big risk, and he knew that they did not have all of the factors of what was going to happen, they did not know how it would work once his mind came through the veil.

  
But he was tired. He was so tired of people either demanding something of him or questioning his choices. Even though they had all been working toward this, and it was understandable why they were feeling apprehensive of where it was headed now, Virgil did not want to stop.

  
He wanted to finish this project. Finish the goal he had sat for himself.

  
He wanted to decide for himself.

  
And to be honest, if he could see his family again just once more… it would be worth it.

  
“I think” he started. “I think we can do it. Old Magic is a lot smoother and the spells more experienced, that has had its kinks worked out many times. I want to try.”

  
He tried quenching the guilt from the lie. He had no knowledge about these things, they were way too advanced. But if it could help calm the others down, so be it.

  
He knew that Patton did not buy it for one second, by the small resigned glare he was sent. Logan seemed to believe it, though he could also be trying to ignore the hazards they had found and instead ready himself for helping out with the spell breaking.  
He sighed, looking down at the letter he was half finished writing. A brief thought occurring to him that he had to speak out loud.

  
“I don’t want you to tell Roman.”

  
“Kiddo no! We have to, he has a right to know. He’ll worry about you!” Patton exclaimed, clearly aghast.

 

“And that’s exactly why you shouldn’t tell him” he hissed back, making the Hufflepuff lean away from him. “If Roman finds out he’ll do anything to stop it and I don’t want that.”

  
“But if you know that he will react that way, should we be doing it at all?” Logan piped up.

  
“It’s my choice Logan” he said with finality.

  
He knew he was probably irrational at the moment, by the way Logan and Patton glanced at each other, but they were not going to change his mind. This was his final choice and if he did not want them to tell Roman, they should respect that.  
Patton leaned over the table again, reaching out for his hand and taking it gently. His eyes going wide and self-righteous anger briefly flickering before he shut them closely, took a breath and opened them again with worry instead.

  
“Kiddo, he cares very much about you I hope you know that” his voice soft. “And… I know that you care for him too. A whole lot! So, think about how you would feel if Roman wanted to take these risks and he didn’t want you to know. He would want to know.”

  
He clenched briefly around his hand.

  
Virgil pulled away slowly, packing up his things without glancing back at them.

  
He heard Logan sigh next to him.

  
He stood, walking a few steps away before turning to see the others look back at him. Their faces worried. He knew worry first hand, and he hated that he was the one to put it there, but he had to do this.  
“If Roman did the same… I wouldn’t even know that I needed to know.”

  
He shouldered his back and walked away. He wanted to ignore the despairing sigh coming from their library spot and the last words he could hear from Patton, before he stepped out of the entrance, leaving his friends behind. were crestfallen.  
“I don’t know what to do about them Logan. I just don’t know.”

  
The clear hopelessness in his voice made Virgil feel an uncomfortable tightening in his chest but chose to ignore it all the same. They were his friends and he knew that they had good intentions, but they did not know what was best for him, only he did.  
If they were not going to support him in this, and he was not sure they wanted to anymore, he would figure it out himself. No problem.

  
Virgil was so far gone in his contemplation that he did not see the person in front of him until he had walked right into her, only catching her arm by chance before she would have fallen to the floor in surprise.  
His eyes widened.

  
Oh no.

  
“Mr. Morgan! What in the world?” professor McGonagall exclaimed, clearly ruffled.

  
“I’m so sorry headmistress! I wasn’t watching where I was going, I was thinking and- “

  
“Clearly that is a dangerous occupation for you to be doing” she told him, brushing off her robe and standing up straight as ever. “If you will excuse me, I have a meeting to attend to, and try not to clash into anyone else.”  
She had already walked a few steps, when Virgil followed her, remembering that he had something to talk to her about.

  
“Wait! I wanted to talk to you about the magic thing” McGonagall turned around, an eyebrow arched. Virgil shuffled a bit on the spot. “It’s not, uhm… I mean I understand why I got the punishment, but you also said that I could come to you if it would be a problem for my studies and uh… I-it kind of is. A problem that is” he gesticulated with his hands weakly. “I can’t do new magic, it’s not in my blood. The-there is this difference between them, it’s not just the spells it’s also the feeling to it and the kind of power that’s in my body is not the same as yours. I’ve tried to stop using my Old Magic, but frankly it just makes things explode… so.”

  
She regarded him for second. Her stare making his skin crawl, she was terrifying. He was about to word vomit an apology, but she huffed and started walking away slowly.

  
“I will give you permission to use Old Magic, though only if it is verbal incantations. You are still not allowed to use nonverbal spells.”

  
It took an embarrassing long while before the words settled in. she was already long gone from the corridor when he yelled out a stumbling thank you. He was thankful that no one was around to see him yelling to himself.  
He even found himself doing a fist pump in the air, relishing in the fact that he had one less thing to worry about. He heard something crinkle in his pocket.

  
The letter. Might as well finish it and get it send before he would regret it.

 

 

  
Normally he would be ecstatic to meet up with Roman in their spot. Tonight though, the climb up to the top of the Astronomy Tower was a strenuous one and he would rather be laying in his bed and not exist. There was a dead weight in his gut, something that felt tight and clenching and was going crawling its way to his fast beating heart.

  
He knew what it was, but why should he feel guilty? He did not do anything wrong, so why felt it like he had?

  
He stuffed his hands into his hoodie pockets, feeling the envelope crinkle and climbed the last couple of steps.

  
Roman’s conjured fireflies were already shining brightly, dimly lighting up the open aired room. It was dark, darker than usual due to the sky being covered in rain filled clouds, that looked to be ready to burst.  
Roman was standing by the railing, his face turned upward as if he wished to look at the moonlight that were not there.

  
Virgil felt another tug and clenched in gut. He was nervous, and his hands were sweating, maybe he should just go back, tell Roman that he was not feeling good and go back to bed instead. The steps he took was hard to do, but he managed to walked up by Roman’s side, looking at the looming clouds.

  
Roman turned immediately and pulled Virgil into an embrace, his warmth comforting. He hid his face away underneath the other’s chin.

  
“Hey Dark and Stormy” Roman whispered, his voice fond. Virgil felt a kiss upon his hair.

  
“Hi” he answered, voice muffled in Roman’s chest.

  
They stood in silence for a bit, swaying to music that were not there. They only did that when Roman wanted Virgil to relax, he could obviously feel that he was tense, but it did not go away. Roman started combing a hand through his black hair calmly, it almost made him want to close his eyes.

  
“Are you okay?”

  
Should he nod? Should he shake his head? Should he find an excuse to leave? It was at this point, where he was standing in these protective and comforting arms, that he started regretting his whimsical need to make decisions that he knew Roman would not approve of. He felt the guilt wanting to burst through his mouth and say sorry for what he had done, but his stubbornness and a tiny bit of fear stopped him.

  
“Virgil?”

  
Roman moved back to look better at him, peering at his face. His hands were moving up and down on his arms, trying to convey that he was still there for him.  
Virgil could not look at him. Even as the seconds turned into a minute without anyone talking.

  
“Is this about how you feel I ignore you?”

  
It really was not, but the question made Virgil think that maybe he was not the only one in the wrong. They both had something that needed to be discussed and if Roman was open to talk about this then maybe Virgil could tell him about the letter too.  
So, he nodded.

  
He heard Roman sigh as he let go of him.

  
“We have already talked about this, I can’t let this” he pointed between them. “Be known to everyone else. Isn’t it enough that our friends know? Why does it matter what everyone else see?”

  
Now it was Virgil’s time to sigh. For the first time since he came up here, he looked Roman in the eye. Even though he did not want to fight, Roman had to understand that he certainly does not approve of how this thing is going.

  
“Because it hurts me Roman, it matters to me” he told him in a soft voice. “It feels like we’re only together when it convenient to you and it’s only when we’re by ourselves. I just don’t understand, or maybe… in some way I do. If it’s because I’m a Slytherin and you’re a Gryffindor I think it’s a very outdated opinion, but if it’s because I’m the ultimate loser at the school and it would ruin everything for you… then I guess I understand, but it still hurts.”

  
His throat tightened. Roman was not denying it, staring at Virgil with wide eyes.

  
“I just…” he blinked quickly. “We have to figure something out or you need to explain something to me, because right now I’m not sure what we are at all, because we’re not official, right? Whe-when people have secret relationships it’s a bad thing, right? Some guy could come up and flirt with you, even while I’m looking, and we wouldn’t be able to do anything, because officially I don’t have a right to chase him away, right?”

  
“Virgil I’m not gay.”

  
Screeching tires. Metaphorical feet stopping. Back straightening and eyes widening.

  
Okay, what?

  
“Ro” he said, confused. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed… but I’m not exactly a girl.”

  
The Gryffindor took a step back and pinched the skin between his eyes.

  
“I know that. I just mean that I’m not… I can’t show our relationship because I’m not… Out. And I don’t really want to take that chance, there are too much at stake for that.”

  
Okay, Auch.

  
“So, what you’re really saying is that I’m not worth it?”

  
“No, Virge I- “

  
“No, no it’s okay” he said, though his eyes began burning and it felt like his heart would stop. Holy crap. “I guess doing this kind of thing with a lousy, half-breed, non-druid can’t be something serious enough to tell your friends about or take home to your family. I mean, such a relationship can’t be good, right?” he hissed out, afraid that his voice would break.

  
Roman surged forward, taking the hands that had rooted themselves in place in his hair.

  
“Don’t talk like that about yourself! That’s not, I-I didn’t mean it like that. You’re important to me” he told him, looking oh so earnest, but it just hurt even further.

  
He shook him off violently and stepped away from him.

  
“I’m not important Roman! This, this ‘thing’ between us can’t be important if we have to hide! We’re not living in the fifties, it’s 2019 for Merlin’s sake! Everyone’s gay!”

  
“It’s not that simple- “Roman tried, his teeth gritted in annoyance.

  
“Nothing’s simple if you always put it in the perspective of others! Why should we care what others think about us? This is us Roman, you and me!” he yelled, feelings all over the place. He tried collected himself, taking in a deep breath and almost whispered the next part.

  
“Don’t you want this?”

  
“Of course I do!” Roman told him, aghast. “I wouldn’t have pursued this if I didn’t, but you’re not seeing how complicated this is for me! My world is based on popularity, I am based on popularity, it is my whole thing! I get recognized, it helps me reach my dreams! I want to be a professional quidditch player, but I can’t be that if I come out as gay! There are no gays in quidditch! Yes, there are male, female and even mixed teams, but no one has ever come out and said that they were anything but straight, I can’t jeopardize that!”

  
“But you’re willing to jeopardize us?!” Virgil yelled back.

  
He could not believe this, and he had begun thinking that the letter was the worst thing. He thought that he could talk this whole ignoring thing out with Roman and maybe rationalize with him, that their relationship could be so much better if they could be them all the time. But this… it made want to throw a tantrum or wrong himself to the ground and ball his eyes out, but he was also feeling a weird sense of numbness in all that hurt. He felt like giving up. He felt weak.

  
“You don’t understand! I can’t be myself out there!” Roman bellowed.

  
“If you can’t be you, then who the fuck is you supposed to be?!” Virgil shrieked, temper breaking out and face flushing red with anger and despair.

  
“Virgil would you just stop! This back and forth brings us nowhere and I’m tired of it! My choices don’t concern you so back off!” the blonde roared back, eyes wild and fury coming off him in waves. Virgil almost shrank back, the dam of tears he had been holding back crashing down his cheeks and his face scrunching up with pain. He heaved for breath twice, his body shaking before he poured all his feelings out, not caring anymore.

  
“You don’t get to say that!” he wailed. “You don’t get to tell me what to do, t-to take away my choices because you care and then tell me that I can’t do the exact same thing! You treat me like I don’t exist, you let Maurice bully me like he always does, and you just stand there and watch, and then you bring me up here to tell me that you care about me, but you don’t Roman! You don’t, because if you did you wouldn’t be such a hypocrite! You wouldn’t lie to my face and you wouldn’t keep us a fucking secret!”  
He had to breathe. His voice was choking with his tears and snot was falling disgustingly from his nose. He had to breathe. Breathe, breathe, breathe. Breathe dammit.

  
A hand took a hold on his shoulder, another coming up to dry the tears away from his cheeks frantically. Virgil pushed him away roughly, choking on another sob, opening his eyes again and letting the yet to fall tears shine in his eyes. Roman looked stricken.

  
“Don’t touch me!” he cried out, his heart crying with him.

  
“I’m in love with you!” he yelled, not caring if anyone underneath the tower could hear them through the cold night air. “I love you so much and it hurts so bad, because we can’t be anything if you don’t open up for the relationship. I can’t live like this anymore!”

  
The second he closed his eyes, closed his mind from the pain that flowed through his whole body making him sick, Roman was there. His hands were holding unto his face, smearing the tears all over and his lips were kissing him desperately.  
Virgil kept crying, but kissed him back just as desperately, his hands clinging to Roman’s sweater as if it was the only thing keeping him from drowning.

  
Their tears mingled together, sobs escaping them both in between the kisses when they had to breathe. Virgil felt light headed, an oncoming migraine working its way to the front of his head. He could not do this. He could hear Roman’s wrecked voice telling him that he loved him too each time they drew apart and it made him cry even harder until he found the strength to let go.

  
He had to yank Roman’s hands away, as he did not want to let go. The Gryffindor looked desperate, almost to a panic when they parted.

  
Virgil could not look at him. He sniffled and quickly scrubbed the tears away with his hands as he turned around and began walking to the stairs.

  
“Virgil please! Please understand why I can’t do what you’re asking! I can try to make it easier, I will try for you, but please wait with me. Be patient, I know we can figure this out!”

  
He sounded so wrecked, it hurt to hear.

  
Virgil stopped, but could not turn around.

  
“I can’t” he choked out.

  
Roman was there again, his arms slung around his waist. Hugging him tightly from behind and sniffling in his hair. It was all he could do to not sob again.

  
“I love you” Roman breathed, ruffling the dark strands.

  
Virgil closed his eyes, crying silently.

  
“I love you, I love you, I love you” Roman kept saying as if it was his mantra. Every feeling he felt clung to each word.

  
“I love you too.”

  
They were swaying. Silent. Virgil did not know how long they stood there, only that his tears had dried up, making his skin irritated with the salt that still clung to it. He had opened his eyes a while ago, the feelings muted but still there faintly.  
Roman was still holding on as strongly as at the beginning, his arms shaking slightly with the beginning strain. He felt him move his head, instead of having his nose stuck in the lock, to rest his cheek upon the top of his head. Breathing together.  
Virgil had taken a hold on Roman’s hands by his stomach, holding on tightly.

  
“Please be patient with me” he whispered, tightening his hold around the Slytherin.

  
Virgil faintly heard the rain falling on the roof.

  
“Okay” he whispered back.

  
Roman kissed his head. He clenched his hands in return.

  
The letter crinkled in his pocket and Roman shifted to look over his shoulder, as if he could see it better.

  
“What’s that?” he asked, his throat sounding sore.

  
Virgil felt another tug of fear gathering in his stomach. It was a definite and all encompassing; oh no.

  
“A… letter.”

  
“Oh yea! You got a letter this morning, who was it from?” Roman asked, sniffing his hair, probably smelling his shampoo.

  
“Uhm.”

  
Virgil pulled the envelope from his pocket to look at it as if he had forgotten who it was for. Roman looked with him for a small amount of seconds, before he let go slowly and turned Virgil around, his eyes still on the paper that was shaking in his grip.  
“Virgil?”

  
“Yes?” he croaked out.

  
“Who wrote you?”

  
He closed his eyes and breathed out through his nose. There was no way this was ending on a good note and he was just too emotionally exhausted by this point. He let Roman take the letter, not wanting to say anything.  
Roman was silent. He hated when he was silent. He did not talk as much as Patton, but he was almost always the loud one, but now he was completely quiet as he took in the name upon the envelope, his ears reddening with each second.  
“I saw you burn the card” he whispered, it sounded almost horrified.

  
“I got a letter from him this morning with his address” he explained carefully, picking nervously at his nails. “There’s not much to it, he just told me that it would be nice to talk to a kin and that he could be there to help if there was something in the wizarding world that was hard.”

  
Roman hummed. His face too serious. Too closed off, he could not read him like he usually could.

  
He waved slightly with the paper.

  
“So this is the first letter you’re sending? He hasn’t gotten anything else?”

  
What was he getting at?

  
“No?” he answered truthfully.

  
The Gryffindor nodded curtly.

  
Then the letter burst into flames and Roman threw it to the ground in between them.

  
“What?!” Virgil yelped, scrambling to the ground. For what he did not know, the letter was unsavorily, already mostly turned into ashes.  
This could not-? How did this-? How could he?!

  
He had just yelled his lungs out, telling him about how he felt with choices and that Roman…

  
He was really a hypocrite.

  
The pain was long gone, giving way to stone cold fury. He looked slowly up at the blonde, finding eyes filled with rage waiting for him up there. He stood up, not wanting to be covering on the ground.

  
“How could you do it” he spoke, voice cutting like ice.

  
Roman’s face heated up further.

  
“I told you not to contact him! I told you that he is bad business, why do you not listen to me?!”

  
“You have no right to be mad at me, when you’ve just proved my exact point! You’re taking away my choices you stupid, arrogant, self-serving nutcase!”

  
“I do it to protect you!” he countered quickly.

  
“And I wanted to do it for our relationship and for you to be you, but I guess that’s not the same huh?!” he kicked the ash vehemently and send Roman the stink eye, before turning around and stomping forcefully down the stairs.

  
“Why are you so self-righteous?!” Roman yelled down at him, the words echoing between the walls.

  
“Why don’t you ask yourself that you hypocrite?!”

  
“You went behind my back to do it!”

  
He did not have the energy to yell another insult up at the Gryffindor, instead he hoped that Roman was still looking since he chose to fling a spiteful fuck you upwards.

  
It was such an emotional rollercoaster he did not know where to turn anymore. Was he sad? Relieved? Angry? Or maybe disappointed as well? He did not know where his emotions were, and he did not know where he had Roman at this exact moment.  
He just knew that he was hurt and felt unfairly treated. He knew that they should talk about it, but frankly he could not stand being in Roman’s presence right now.

  
He was so tired, even the thought of Roman having confessed his feelings to him was exhausting. He had to sleep on this. Maybe everything would be better tomorrow, otherwise Roman would have to walk on very thin ice again and watch where he put his feet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Playlist for The Crest of Merlin - a song for each chapter:
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=x6wMinZPiHo&list=PLFZqzIR8tuAzMAnwsIAYEgwGUyDR-ILG9


	11. Chapter 11

“Are you sure that they have that kind of crystal here?”

  
He would admit that he was not in his most welcoming corner at the moment and that did also seem to seep into his interactions with everything and everyone. Even Logan had begun reacting to his grumblings and overall negative behavior.  
The Ravenclaw turned sharply toward him, sniffing annoyed with his nose in stuck in the air and everything about him said ‘cut it out or I’ll jinx you badly’.

  
“I will have you know that I personally asked professor Trelawney and she mentioned that she has two in her office, therefore, here we are!”

  
Logan pointedly knocked on the door to the divination classroom, making Virgil roll his eyes. In reality, he was thankful that it was Logan that had gone to her instead of himself, even though he did not take her classes.

  
He had at first gone to the potions professor, Williamson, thinking that every extraordinary item at the school, would be found in their possession, though they soon found that perhaps it would make more sense that a crystal with the ability to help its user on multidimensional travels, would be found together with scrying crystals and everything else that seemed on the weird side, even for magic users.

  
Professor Trelawney was a weird case, and she rubbed Virgil the wrong way with her constant description of her students’ deaths, with the sole exception of her weird focus on him, where she believed him to be a true seer and had never stopped telling him about his unique center and energies in various ways, ever since he unfortunately had chosen the subject as an elective in his third year.

  
Logan knocked again, standing back to make room for when the door would come swinging, though the door stayed in place.

  
“Are you certain that we should go through with this?”

  
Not really, he wanted to think. Especially after his fight with Roman the night before. Everything had just come to a heads and he was still mentally exhausted that felt like walking around with a giant lump fixated in his chest constantly.  
But he could not think like that. Just because some people did not agree with him, did not mean that he necessarily should change course. He knew what their opinions were, he knew the risks and he knew what the outcome could be and what it hopefully would become.

  
He did not feel like there was much to lose and the possibility for it to go wrong was not that high either way.

  
Or something.

  
Instead of showing how uncertain he had become, he nodded his head.

  
“I want to do this” he said, still looking at the door. “You guys don’t have to help; you know?”

  
Logan’s mouth thinned at that.

  
“I will help to the best of my abilities. And I know for a fact that neither Patton nor Roman will let you do this ‘ceremony’ on your own.”

  
That answer silenced him until the door finally opened and the divination professor with the giant glasses and wild curls, told them to get inside with the dramatically flair only she seemed to possess.

  
“Visions told me of the return of a true seer and his non-believer! Come in, come in, I have the crystals right in here.”

  
At this rate his eyes would get stuck rolling, by the end of the school year.

  
They followed her in through the divination classroom, to the open doorway with the colorful pearls hanging down in front of her office.

  
It was strange moving around the room without any other students present or for the smell of tea and coffee to be almost absent. Her office was cluttered, reminding him a bit about his grandmother’s cottage, with all her herbs, trinkets and magical items such as spell books and different kinds of crystals and stones.

  
In a way it was comforting, though the professor’s whimsical nature quickly brought him back from his reverie with a cringy kind of annoyance as he watched her. She was fluttering in between all of her things, though still seemingly knowing exactly where to go.

  
As Virgil and Logan watched from the doorway, she pulled out a purple leather pouch from underneath her desk, where she shook out two blue-grey crystals with the size of a hand, going from wrist to fingertip, as she came back from the messy room to join them in the bigger classroom instead.

  
“Here they are! Stones for travelling in the unknown lands” she told them with grandeur, before stopping herself and blinking at them with confusion. “What exactly are you going to use them for? They have highly aggressive energies surrounding them, which makes them not for the faint of heart… or minors.”

  
They looked to each other, both wondering if the other had made up an excuse in case of such a question. Logan did not seem ready to handle the kinds of Trelawney, his eyes wide behind the glasses and mouth working itself open.  
Right, guess he was going to wing it.

  
He turned to professor Trelawney with the brightest smile he could muster, teeth and all.

  
“We were actually thinking of writing a paper about the potentials of afterworld traveling, if there could be found a safe way to do it, and how it could help people say goodbye to their loved ones in the way they wish, especially if they have lost them in a sudden or unexpected way. Then after we fact check the different theories of this, we thought that maybe you had some afghanite crystals that we could get a feel from.”

  
“Ah! Of course! Yes, here, here” she pushed a crystal at each of them. “I can see a successful paper coming from this, you will surely feel the energies easily” she told him, but then turned to Logan with pity. “Although I’m sad to say that you will not be able to see the center of the crystals, they are fickle things and won’t be used by just anyone. You have to be made of the fabric of a believer to achieve anything from materials made of soul energies.”

  
Logan looked to be about to explode at her demeaning words, though unintentional, they would surely be hurtful to someone who loved to do experiments and pursue all kinds of knowledge, not just the subjects of the world they already knew.  
She turned to Virgil again, her demeanor slightly more serious.

  
“It’s okay for you to feel the energies and the waves of your soul responding to the magical fabric that is surrounding the stone but do remember that you’re forbidden to test out your traveling idea by yourself. It will strain the body, the mind and the soul if not done properly and such a project should clearly be handled by an adult that has been conducting such experiments for a long time” She told him gravely. “Please come back with the crystals when you’re done.”

  
Virgil nodded quickly and shook her hand, thanking her profusely for lending the crystals to them for a little while. He then shooed Logan out of the room and down the rounding stairs before the professor could say another word.

  
They had thankfully managed to walk all the way down to the third floor, before Logan grabbed him and pushed him out unto one of the multiple balconies on this floor. The Ravenclaw paced from one end to the other, not saying anything though clearly raging on the inside.

  
Virgil stood watching as Logan kept going, the first gist of an anxious expression on his face that he had ever seen. Each time he stopped in front of him, his mouth started opening but no sound coming out, before he started pacing again, made Virgil more and more uneasy.

  
Logan had always been hard to read and the fact that his emotions showed so plainly on his face as they did, made Virgil wonder what in the world could have set off the Ravenclaw in that way.

  
“Alright, listen.”

  
Logan stopped in front of him again, making a cutting motion with his hands.

  
“I know you said that you want to do this, even if we are not going to help and I am pretty sure that I cannot make you change your mind. But this whole thing has begun going into a serious territory and I really think we need to strategize this whole debacle, because frankly, with all this information we are first getting now, makes me wonder how much we truly can trust Elethea with this, when she clearly has not been giving us all of the warnings that she should and informed us properly about the overall picture of the risks and what exactly is going to happen.”

  
“What do you mean?” Virgil asked, not really following where Logan wanted the conversation to go.

  
“I mean” Logan made a frustrated sound before continuing. “Do you not think that this is all rather preposterous? We both know that the druids do not like you, no! let me finish, and here comes one of the only three druidic leaders in all of Great Britain, saying that she wants to help out with a thing as trivial as opening a box, but not telling us everything we should know to conduct a safe and successful ceremony. Does that not unsettle you? I know for a fact that even though professor Trelawney is the closest to a lunatic as I have ever met, I trust her more than a trust someone that is coming from a community that I know have and still do shun one of my best friends, for having the family ties that he has. This whole thing screams literal stranger danger and I believe that if we are still going through with this, then we should strategize a way for us to communicate safely with each other without Elethea knowing. If anything were to go wrong in the end and she defiles our trust, we should at the very least be able to stand up for one another quickly.”

  
What the Ravenclaw told him… it resonated in a chilling way. He had suspicions himself, he could not be an anxious mess most of the time and not have that sixth sense of ‘something is wrong’, but his focus had been elsewhere.

  
“But she knew my mother, Logan. And my grandmother” he mumbled, more to himself than the other. “Couldn’t that be reason enough?”

  
The Ravenclaw shrugged.

  
“Perhaps. But do we want to risk this, on the assumption that she is doing this because of that? Do we fully trust that she will not do something when our backs are turned, and we are focused on the spells and whatnot?”

  
Logan was giving him an opportunity instead of slamming the whole project closed. He was voicing his opinions of the matter, though not shutting down Virgil’s own.

  
Maybe… it could never hurt being too careful. If they could find a way to slip past Elethea without her noticing, if they feared an approaching difficulty, then she would never be the wiser and she would never know that they did not trust her completely.  
“What did you have in mind? The Granger Galleon Charm?” he asked.

  
Logan snorted, waving him off quickly when Virgil frowned.

  
“Of course not, the Protean charm has been used a great deal after the biography of Hermione Granger came out three years ago, and it would be rather difficult to master completely beside of the fact that we would clearly be giving ourselves away by looking at coins each minute. No, I was thinking more along the lines of a simple mental link between us, Mentis Link Index, nothing other than surface emotions if the users want them to be heard or shown.”

  
“Is it easy to control though?” Virgil asked with trepidation. It was quite enough that Patton was reading him all the time unintentionally, but to have all of them knowing what he felt? That was not something he would want to experience.

  
“It is simple enough from what I’ve read. It is easy to master, and the link is more of a one-way street, not really that effective but it gets this kind of job done. The basic line is that one of the users can send an idea or thought to the others, that comes of as a specific emotion; fear, confusion, etcetera, though the others cannot respond on that specific thought. They can, however, send off their own thought or feeling, which I would guess can make it easier to hold a mental conversation without fearing someone intruding in your inner thoughts.”

  
It sounded good and with all of the knowledge Logan was spewing, it sounded like the Ravenclaw had been thinking about this long enough for him to have gotten research down and found an actual spell for them to use. Though there was one thing, he did not like the thought of having someone in his head, even though Logan told him that the spell had precautions against that, he could not help but think that it could go wrong and everyone of them would see into his head and all of the things he did not want them to know. All of the things he felt, the true opinions he had, or the memories of… of everything.

  
“If we’re doing this spell, is there a way to reverse it afterwards? And could it maybe just be between the two of us? I don’t… I mean- “

  
“I understand Virgil, it is okay if it is only us that will have the link, as long as we have the means to make this as safe as possible. And yes, we have to do a spell together afterwards to break the link, but it will be easy enough and then our headspaces are free from the telephone-line so to speak” Logan told him, making Virgil smirked at the last part.

  
Someone had been around a certain muggleborn to learn that word properly. He did not say anything about it though, only leaning against the Ravenclaw as he came to stand beside him, resting against the railing, basking in the afternoon sun.

  
“Thank you, for all of this.”

  
Logan did not answer, though he felt his weight relax against him and his head coming to rest upon his shoulder. It was great having friends.

 

 

  
Lightening broke the dark sky in harsh white lines, lighting up the ruins of a cobblestoned courtyard.

  
Big Ben stroke twelve, the beat of the clockwork striking the heart.

  
Black flower petals flew through the air on a brisk wind.

  
An animalistic roar echoed.

  
A suit wearing, shadowed figure stood intimidating on a stairwell, looking down at the onlooker.

  
A bloody hand with lightening like, pink scars brushed away purple hair.

  
“You don’t have to do this.”

 

“I know.”

  
Lightening crashed into the misty courtyard.

  
Four shadowed figures stood together.

  
Green light exploded from a wand.

  
Golden eyes shining.

  
“Ic bió Emrys.”

  
A horrified scream.

 

Everything went green, then black in the matter of a second.

 

  
Something was touching him, something was holding him down. Virgil fought against the offending hands, managing to get an arm free long enough to whack something in front of him, making the person hiss in pain.  
Someone was yelling. Someone was also screaming.

  
“-Up! V! it’s just a dream, wake up! Come on, calm down you’re okay.”

  
“Why’s he not coming out of it?!”

  
“Should I get a teacher?”

  
“No! he’s awake, just let me handle it. Get back!”

  
His body was trembling and a mixture of sweat and tears were falling from his face. His hair was falling limply into his eyes, a hand coming to guide the strands away and a soothing voice telling him to relax and come back from his mind.  
He felt himself being wrangled into a new position, a hot chest burning through his thin t-shirt to his cold back. An arm came around his midriff and a hand settled upon his chest, helping him to follow the breathing rhythm of the other and regulate his own.

  
“C’mon V, come back to me. You’re okay.”

  
It was dark when his eyes opened half lidded, almost scaring him into thinking that he was still caught in the quick flashes of… whatever that was.  
But then he saw two of his roommates, Henry and Zachariah. The both of them looked nervous, almost scared which was something that Virgil had never seen the be.

  
“Bloody hell mate” Zachariah whispered in a breathe, his shoulders falling in relief.

  
“He’s awake” Henry told the one sitting behind him.

  
The hand in his hair stopped for a second with its petting, then resuming with extra care. Virgil immediately knew who it was and knew that he should move, but it felt so nice and he was exhausted.

  
“Wha’ happ’n?” he slurred, voice grating as if it had been screaming.

  
“You just began groveling in some kind of weird ass language, it woke me up and then you started screaming” Henry explained, falling back unto his own bed with a huff. “Almost made me piss my pants.”

  
“How crude” Zachariah snarked.

  
“Fuck off.”

  
The chest Virgil was leaning on huffed and the hand on his hair slipped to his shoulder, Jakes face moving into view. Concern marring it.

 

“You okay?”

  
He should move, but his body fell further into the warmth of the other, his eyes falling shut.

  
“Yea” he said. “Just a bad dream.”

  
“That’s one heck of a bad dream though. I’m sure it’s going to give me nightmares” Henry complained. Zachariah walked over and hit him across the head making him yelp, before going to bed himself.

  
“If that’s all, then I’d like to sleep for a couple of more hours. Goodnight.”

  
Henry grumbled, but went to bed himself, drawing up his blanket all the way to his ears. Jake shuffled the two of them, managing in moving Virgil a bit to the side to make room for him to lie next to him. He drew up the blanket over the both of them and tugged him in carefully, looking up shortly to meet the eyes of the other.

  
“Is this okay?”

  
It should not be. He knew that this was probably crossing a line somewhere, yet the exhaustion melted him into a puddle, seeking the comforting warmth of the other as his body kept trembling, though he should not feel cold.

  
“Yea.”

  
They lay there for a bit, Virgil’s heart falling into a calm rhythm again and Jake’s eyes resting upon the smaller form. He was afraid to fall asleep again, his eyes open to look at his soft bedding yet seeing nothing.

  
That had not been a regular nightmare, he knew those well. This was almost like the one that kept repeating in his Christmas break, yet this one shifted between different images in flashes, the smells too strong and the sounds moving close by him in the air as if they were whispering right by his sleeping form in the real world. It had greatly unsettled him.

  
He felt Jake shifting and flinched minutely when his hand came to smooth out his bangs again. Carefully, comfortingly, easy.

  
“Do you want to talk about it?” he whispered.

  
Virgil shook his head slowly, he did not know what to think about it even though the flashes were still going through his head clearly, let alone talk about it. Jake rested his hand on his cheek.

  
“Tell me if there’s anything I can do.”

  
He looked up from the bedding, meeting the concerned gaze of the other. His thumb was caressing the skin underneath his eye. It was wrong, it should be a bad touch, but it just felt so reassuring after that dream. It felt like something Roman would do. The thought of the other made him pause. Even though they were fighting, they were still together… in a way, and Virgil could not let another touch him like this. It was as if Jake was not friendly in his careful approach, it was almost lovingly.  
Virgil closed his eyes and turned away.

  
“I’m fine, you should go to bed too.”

  
Silence reigned for a bit before Jake sighed and shifted on the madras, making the springs creak when he stood and walked to his own bed.

  
He heard him settle down and after a bit falling asleep, his breathing turning into a slight snore.

  
Could it really be true the way that Jake had handled him with such care? He was meant to be slightly cold toward him, snarky and teasing, yet he had been there at once when he had needed someone. Roman should have been that someone, the one to chase away the dreams or whatever they were, not Jake.

  
Virgil clenched his eyes harder together, his throat falling victim to a lump and his eyes beginning to water. No one was there to chase away the dreams. He did not fall asleep.

 

 

  
They were walking in silence to the owlery. Patton and Logan were researching the properties of the crystals and going over the plan for the ceremony that he and Logan had made earlier that day. Meanwhile Virgil and Roman had been tasked with sending the letter to Elethea, telling her that they were going to do the ceremony Thursday at sunset by the Black Lake, then there would be time for the letter to arrive at her place.

  
If it were for Virgil to decide, he would rather not be accompanied by his somewhat boyfriend on this little trip, but Patton had clearly stated, meddled really, that Harold the crazy owl was a quick flyer, great for this little mission and that Roman was the only one that could handle him in some capacity.

  
It was not like Virgil was still mad at Roman, he still felt saddened and unfairly treated but he was not angry. The silence was uncomfortable though, none of them knowing what to say and Virgil was still tired from almost a whole night without sleep.  
He almost slipped on the slobbery, melting snow upon the steps just before the entrance to the owlery. Roman’s quick reflexes saved him from falling with his face first, his arm coming around his middle to catch him easily.

  
“Better be careful Virge, the snow is almost clear water by now” Roman told him, slowly letting go and opening the door for the both of them to enter.

  
The last time they were, electricity had sparked between them. Now the tension could be cut with a knife if it was visible.

  
He followed the Gryffindor into the room, looking at the sleeping owls and seeing a couple of them fighting for a spot near a shadowy corner at the uppermost raft, feathers falling, and angry screeching being hooted.  
Roman was calling for Harold, already having found him on the raft just above them, though the owl was stubbornly ignoring his owner, tugging himself further into his feathers, looking very relaxed and sleepy.

  
“Oh come on” Roman said under his breath, before continuing to call for the owl with a personality.

  
Virgil walked away to stand by the window, looking out into the clear sunshine. He had stood here the last time too. They had almost kissed. He touched his lips lightly with his fingertips, smiling softly and feeling heat gathering on his cheeks. The butterflies had returned from their slump.

  
Though they had been interrupted and Roman had hurt his feelings by running off, they still had, had that moment before. A moment where it had felt like his heart would burst before they could even reach each other’s lips. They had gotten several moments like that since then and it had never truly faded, the feeling of excitement and pure happiness and affection mixed together and almost feeling too much, though just right.

  
But they had also fought, sometimes with the unconscious intent of hurting each other with spiteful remarks and hurtful actions like the one with the letter a couple of days ago.  
A pair of arms slid cautiously around his stomach, settling lightly upon his hips, his own came up to lay his hands upon them, leaning back to rest against Roman’s chest as the Gryffindor rested his chin on his shoulder.

  
“Giving up on the crazy owl?” Virgil asked after a minute of standing in silence and watching the rays of sun dance together. Roman huffed, nuzzling his nose into his neck.

  
“I’m not one for defeats, I’ll get him eventually.” A kiss was left on the skin behind his ear, making him squirm with a huffed laugh.

  
“I thought you would protest about him being crazy.”

  
Roman hummed, the sound reverberating into Virgil’s back.

  
“Maybe I’m rethinking my statements about him having personality and just agreeing with you finding him crazy.”

  
“Oh?”

  
He turned around in the arms, coming to look up into the chocolate eyes with the golden hues coming from the sun shining on him. There was nervousness to be found in them, a kind of hesitation that normally would not be found on his confident person.

  
“I…”

  
The Gryffindor’s arms began brushing up and down the arms of the Slytherin, warming him up though he already had his thick jacket on.

  
“I wanted to tell you that I am sorry about how I behaved the other night” he told him, pausing briefly to make sure that Virgil was listening. “What you said… about me being a hypocrite, you’re right it was the same discussion and I shouldn’t be taking away your choices. Especially when I know have much they mean to you and I am sorry for that.”

  
He was looking away, though his hands were tightening as if he was afraid to let go. Virgil was not able to shake him off to reach for his face and turn it toward him, so he settled on resting his head on the other’s chest.

  
“I shouldn’t have kept it a secret though… I’m sorry about that” he said. “Though I’m happy that you see what it means to me, even though it doesn’t fall under what you think I should do. Thank you.”

  
Arms came around him again and he was pulled into a tight hug, feeling the chin of the other resting on the top of his head. He quickly looped his own arms around Roman’s waist, hugging just as tightly.

  
“Why are we always fighting?” Roman asked.

  
“Maybe it’s just our chemistry” he yawned, trying to cover it up by pushing face further into the other. Roman huffed, carding his fingers through Virgil’s hair.

  
“Are you tired?”

  
He nodded, hiding another yawn and blinking blearily.

  
“Couldn’t sleep last night, had some weird dreams that I’d rather not have again” he answered. Roman pulled back, but not before stealing a short kiss.

  
“Do you want to talk about it?”

  
He shook his head, stepping further into the room and eyeing the scowling, red-eyed owl on the raft just out of reach.

  
“I’d rather not.” He turned to see Roman watching him with a pensive look. “Do you want to try again?” he nodded toward the owl that shifted ominously above him, fluffing his feathers threateningly.  
Roman sighed put upon.

  
“Might as well.”

 

 

  
“Se blód self cnosl gewill inforlætan mec… Se blód self cnosl gewill inforlætan mec.”

  
The feel of the words was ingrained deeply in his being, though the rhythm of the spell was a bit more complicated than he would have liked.

  
He and Patton were sitting in their corner of the library, the sunset making the white walls seem orange in the room, as the rays peered in from the windows.  
They were sitting in an unusual silence, both doing their own preparations for the next evening. Patton had tried earlier to talk him into telling Roman about what was really going to happen and what in the end could go wrong, but he would have none of it. It was not the Hufflepuff’s place to meddle in his relationship and what he chose to tell his boyfriend.

  
When he felt himself go from nonchalance to almost crippling guilt within seconds, he immediately turned to the other and told him to knock off what ever he was doing. Patton had looked innocent and told him that he had no idea what he was talking about, but Virgil was not fooled. It was not normal for feelings to change that fast, and the fact that he had just denied the empath’s help made it all a bit too suspicious.  
After a bit of forth and back, the two of them had chosen to ignore the other in annoyance. He did not know if the annoyance or slight anger on Patton’s face had been feelings from himself or if he in a way had projected his own feelings unto the other.

  
“Hi Logan!”

  
Virgil looked up at Patton’s greeting, seeing the Ravenclaw walk toward them with his wand out and his schoolbag hanging from his shoulder.

  
“Greetings. How is everything coming along?” he asked them.

  
Virgil shrugged, closing the booklet where he had written down the spell for practice.

  
“As well as it can be, the rhythm is annoying but I’m getting the hang of it” he told them.

  
“I’ve collected all of the candles and some cupcakes from the kitchen for the offerings, so everything on my end is also finished and ready” the Hufflepuff told them, leaning back with his arms behind his head in a relaxing manner.  
“That sounds satisfactory” a soft smile was exchanged between the two. “Is it possible for me to borrow Virgil for a second?”

  
Virgil stood and gathered his things, making his way to the Ravenclaw.

  
“It’s okay, I’ll practice some more before the actual ceremony anyway, so I’m free. See you later Pat.”

  
“Bye Virge! Lo remember to meet up tonight.”

  
They found an empty classroom on the same floor, Logan locking the door for good measure before they got to work on the linking spell. The Ravenclaw had pulled out a giant tome of a book, where the spell was found on one of the middle pages. He looked it over once as Logan was muttering the spell under his breath for a moment, preparing himself for the casting.

  
“Ready?” he asked.

  
Virgil nodded and stood up, brushing off invisible dust from his pants. Logan walked right up in front of him and into his personal space, placing the tip of his wand upon the Slytherin’s forehead.

  
“Do the same as me.” Virgil pulled out his black wand and did the same to the other, looking for more instructions. “When I start the incantation do not interrupt me but focus your mind upon meeting my own. Open it up for the possibility, just as when you decide to start a conversation with another person. It will probably feel like a prickling when we are sending images or feelings to each other, or so I have read.”

  
That was good to know. He closed his eyes in concentration, focusing on the gruff voice of the other though not the words that he spoke, and the prickling feeling that he was supposed to be feeling when the spell took hold upon them.  
He saw a pinkish light through his eyelids and suddenly images fluttered through his inner eye. images coming in flashes and quickly absorbing the one before to make room for the next. A tower ruin. A view of a lake that separated the hill the tower was upon from the town that could be seen on the horizon. A smiling house elf clad in faded blue, with an old looking broom in their hands. The images came with the feeling of calm happiness and prickled his brain as if the memory was his own but could not be reached properly.

  
As sudden as the images had come, they were gone, and he opened his eyes to see Logan smile brightly. He could not help but smile back.

  
“That was yours?”

  
The other nodded, removing his wand from Virgil’s forehead.

  
“It was a memory from a while back, where one of our house elves, Galrey, had found a broom she thought I could use. Apparently I needed a bit of fun in my life” he told him, smiling with nostalgia before clearing his throat and looking a bit more serious, though never losing the happy tint. “Did you see anything that I was not supposed to project?”

  
“I only saw that one. A tower, the broom and Galrey, nothing else.”

  
A satisfied smirk broke out on Logan’s face.

  
“Then I believe it was executed to perfection” he said. “Do you want to try again?”

  
They kept going for an hour more, switching between being the one to ‘talk’ with memories and feelings, even trying going as far as keeping up a somewhat conversation about Patton, where Virgil tried to find out what they were going to meet up about without him. Logan did not have any comments about that.

  
Either way, Virgil felt like he was getting to know Logan in a way that no one else had, seeing his life in flashes that he chose to show and getting the feelings he had about them as well. He tried doing the same, feeling like their friendship had hit a whole other point than before.  
He had a right to be there. Roman had asked him.

  
He had asked him and so he was sitting in the stands getting dirty looks from some older Gryffindors that had also come to watch their quidditch team practice that evening.  
He had ignored them the whole time. Almost two hours of sitting in the cold, fresh air with the sun setting little by little until it got too dark for the team to continue. The brooms zoomed past them in a final, seven-point V-formation, to land on the muddy ground in the middle of the field.

  
Virgil stood together with the Gryffindors, walking down the stairs and separating from the group to walk through the entrance to the field instead. He had been mindful about not wearing any Slytherin colors, which ended with him wearing all black instead, almost disappearing in the darkness that had surrounded the school as the night drew closer.  
The team was walking toward them, giving him odd looks as they passed. Then Roman saw him, a big smile brightening his handsome face. Though that meant that Maurice, walking by his side, looked to the source of his friend’s sudden burst of happiness. A deep scowl darkened his expression and he almost stomped the rest of the way to stand in front of him.

  
“What are you doing here? Spying on us huh?!”

  
“Wha- No!” Virgil exclaimed, almost taken aback yet still knowing full well that there had been a possibility of this happening.

  
“Then step off the field! I can’t believe- Why haven’t anyone kicked you off when we started practice?” the taller boy pushed him in his shoulder, making him stumble back. “You’re even wearing a disguise? Where’s your house pride freak?”  
“Maurice!” the bully was suddenly pushed harshly to the side, Roman walking in front of Virgil protectively, a thunderous expression present. “Chill out and walk away, Virgil’s here for me.”

  
The clear shock and outrage on his face was hilarious, almost looking like he thought that Roman had lost his mind. Virgil covered his smile quickly with a hand as he hid his face behind him.

  
“What?!”

  
“Walk it off!” Roman barked, then cleared his throat to speak softer. “I will meet you in common room later.”

  
The other Gryffindor scowled at the both of them before scurrying off, his broom swinging angrily in his grip. They watched him in silence until he was gone, and they had heard the slam of the door to the Gryffindor changing room.  
Virgil could not hold it back. He burst out laughing, snorting his breath inwards. Roman looked back at him with a surprised grin before falling for his charming grunts and begun laughing himself.

  
“You’re as charming as ever my Dark Prince” Roman giggled after they had managed to calm down. Virgil glanced backward in case some of the teammates were still around, but they were all alone. He quickly spun around and surprised the other by stealing a quick kiss from his lips, smirking once he stepped back with Roman following him, a pout forming on his face.

  
“That was not quite enough you little tease” he growled, surging forward to kiss him again, longer, more languid, gathering him in his arms, with his sweaty uniform steaming with the heat from his body.  
Virgil pulled back to catch his breath, looking up in the darkened eyes that were gazing at him lovingly. Fingers came up to caress the dark bruises underneath an eye from lack of sleep.

  
“Don’t you sleep dearest?”

  
He leaned into the hand, making it rest fully against his cheek instead.

  
“A little, but between the weird dreams and working on the spell and preparing the ceremony for tomorrow, plus ordinary school… I guess I’m a bit stressed out” he admitted.

  
Roman hummed deeply, stepping away to look at the starlit sky, his breathe coming out in long, calm puffs. He narrowed his eyes at him, what was he thinking? He had his planning face on. When the Gryffindor looked from the Thunderbolt broom to him with a speculating look, his stomach dropped, and he quickly stepped further away with a hand pointing at him aggressively.

  
“No.”

  
Roman moved closer, making him step further back.

  
“It’s the best way to relax and it’s such a beautiful starry night sky! You can’t possibly want to pass up this opportunity.”

  
“Yes, yes I can! And I will! I told you brooms don’t like me, they throw me off and will probably explode! Do you want that to happen? Old Magic doesn’t mix well with the newer type and I don’t want to ruin your broom… or make you fall to your death if we get that far up for that matter.”

  
He was stopped by the wall that met his back and Roman was on him in a second, kissing him breathless before pulling back and looking down at him with a clear smirk in place, his arms encaging him once again.  
“But this time it will be me that is riding the broom, you’ll only have to be the passenger” he said. “Unless you want to sit in the front and let me teach you?”

  
“No!” he squeaked, coughing the high tone out of his throat.

  
“Then you’ll just hold unto me and I will fly” Roman said, smiling beautifully. “But I guess it’s your choice. It’s only if you want, I’m not going to pressure you into flying with your boyfriend in this flawless night sky we’re so lucky to have tonight.”  
The Gryffindor stepped back, casually swinging his broom. Virgil narrowed his eyes again, knowing exactly what he was doing.

  
“Stop emotionally manipulating me.”

  
“I am not manipulating you!” Roman told him, a hand coming to rest upon his heart in a hurting manner, but his grin ruined the performance. “But is it working?”

  
Virgil rolled his eyes.

  
“Fine. But it’ll be your fault when we are dead and I’m going to beat the crap out of you for it.”

  
They were so going to die tonight. Forget the box and blood spell to get him to the afterlife, Avalon was calling, and it wanted him to arrive early. He knew he was shaking as he clambered unto the broom behind Roman, grasping the clothing at his sides.  
Roman moved his arms to encircle him instead of holding unto his chest, making them sit flush up against the other’s back. Virgil held on tight, afraid of falling off once Roman would step of the ground.

  
“Alright. Remember to not let go, even once.”

  
“Do you really think you have to tell me about the freaking safety meassu- “he started snarking in stress but ended up screaming high pitched when they left the ground and zoomed yards upon yards into the air.  
Normally the reaction would be to close your eyes, but he kept them wide open to take in the danger he was facing properly, but what he was seeing made his heart leap in a spectacular way.  
They were flying to the castle, the golden lights of the windows lit up and contrasted with the silver of the moon and the stars. The moved around the astronomy tower, where he saw their balcony standing in the silent dark, hiding their memories from others view.

  
Roman flew over the lake, the dark mountains on both sides and the glitter of mirrored stars on the surface that the Gryffindor dived slowly for, until their shoes could almost touch the waters. He did not fly with a hurry and Virgil was surprised that he could not feel the energy of the broom fighting his own magic. With the silence, the sight and the warm body he clung to, it felt almost ethereal and he relaxed further into the other’s back, resting half of his face into his shoulder blades and enjoyed the moment with him.

  
They did not talk. It would ruin the feeling with their shouting over the wind, but they found another way of communicating their feelings with Roman taking one of his hands in his and caressing the back of it, while steering them through the air with the other.

  
He nuzzled into his neck, leaving kisses here and there as they rounded the quidditch field again and Roman prepared them for landing. They stopped near the entrance and began descending carefully until their feet were safely on the ground again.  
Virgil held unto Roman’s shoulders for balance and stepped off the broom, letting him do the same afterwards. He could feel himself grinning into their chaste kisses, until Roman moved his hands to his waist and pulled him closer, opening up their kiss and licking at his lower lip.

  
He opened his mouth further at the insistence, making way for Roman’s tongue to explore his mouth and fight with his own, clumsily at first but then dancing together. Roman’s hands sank to further, almost falling below the first part of his jeans, making Virgil groan into their kiss with exhilaration. The Gryffindor pulled him even closer, making their kiss faster, almost bruising.  
He pulled back with a gasp as Roman’s hands found their way to his back pockets, spit breaking from their lips. They looked at each other, their breaths uneven and huffing in white puffs in between them, mingling.

  
“We should do this again” he whispered, licking the spit from his lips. Roman’s eyes followed the movement with a small smile.

  
“Have I made you into a flyer now?”

  
He laughed breathlessly.

  
“If it always ends like this, then maybe you have” he told him, standing on his toes to kiss his boyfriend slowly again.

  
As they broke, Roman removed his hands after squeezing slightly, moving to hold Virgil in a hug for a bit instead, then guiding the both of them to the entrance.

  
“Let me walk you to your common room.”

  
“Such a gentleman.”

  
Roman laughed and kissed the top of his head. He smiled.

 

 

  
They were almost finished setting everything up for the ceremony to break the blood spell. Patton had gotten creative and said that maybe it would work even better if they also offered some pretty flowers as well as the cupcakes, so the Hufflepuff had been up in the middle of the night to ‘borrow’ some nightshades and irises from professor Longbottom’s private greenhouse. It had not been the first time he had done that.  
The flowers were filling out the half circle in between the tall candles, mixing the cream and white colors with the green, blue and purplish of the petals, and the two cupcakes had been carefully placed on a small plate on the rocks right at the edge of the water.

  
He had chosen a spot a bit further away from the castle than the one he had used at Halloween. The towers of the castle could be seen on the mountain, but the trees were obscuring the view and they had been trekking a bit over an hour to get their destination.

  
The sun was still shining with fiery colors of gold, orange and pink from the sky as the sun began disappearing to make way for the coming night.  
Virgil had already stepped into the circle, standing with the box in his hands and concentrating on the rhythms of the spells he had to remember. The words he had easily down by now and was ready to say when the moment came.  
Logan and Patton had placed them self on a low hanging branch not far from the circle, their feet almost touching the wet grass as they moved them back and forth lazily. Their whispering conversation carried through the light wind, though the words were not. Roman was kneeling by the circle, adjusting the candles to perfection from the outside. Virgil smiled gently down at him without his knowing, he could almost feel the anticipation and nervousness coming off his Gryffindor.

  
The wind suddenly picked up and he felt a force make the hair on his arms stand on edge. He looked up in front of him, just seconds before the others did, and saw what looked to be a small tornado of wind, leaves and green and white light at its center come from the sky to hit the earth, spreading dust and small pebbles outwards from the epicenter.  
A figure quickly formed and as the wind died down, walked out from the dying light and dusted off her white and green robe.

  
Elethea smiled politely at them and stepped up to the circle, nodding at Virgil who nodded back in courtesy. She looked everything over, adjusted a candle slightly and shifted the plate with the cupcakes so that half of the plate could be hit by the small waves of the lake. As she righted herself, she held out her hands for the box which he gave her easily.  
A prickling of a suspicious feeling echoed in his mind and he shortly looked to the Ravenclaw behind him, making a calming gesture with his hands.

  
“I will propose that since the locking charm is rather complex, I will remove it before you will break the strings and lastly the blood spell before the sun sets. Is this reasonable?”

  
He nodded, sighing in relief. He had, had no idea how to go about that one.  
She held the box out in front of her in her open palms, closed her eyes and looked upwards to the sky. He could hear the stones shift as Patton and Logan moved closer, all of them curious and a bit excited about seeing advanced druidic magic.  
She took a breath.  
They held theirs.

  
“Séo Blæcce Trendel.”

  
The box shook, then stilled. Nothing more.  
The air left him quickly in confusion.

  
“Well… that did not have the flair I expected” Roman mumbled next to him.

  
“Was that it?” Patton asked.

  
Elethea chuckled as she gave back the box to him. Guess there was only two spells to go. He looked at her for confirmation, but she had already stepped back, only there to make sure that everything went accordingly and that they did not screw up completely.

  
“Guess it was” he answered, when she did not and held the box up in a similar manner, feeling the excess magic of the invisible strings surrounding the box. He felt their eyes on him, but focused on his concentration instead, readying his magic to surge gently throughout his body to edge around the box from his hands.

  
It was a funny feeling. How his magic flexed against the chains, almost tasting the flavor of gold if that was possible. A warmth settled in his gut and he was ready.  
“Se Goldweard Bæt Rápincel” he spoke clearly.  
He felt the crackles from the box hitting his palms before he heard them and opened his eyes to watch the spectacle. It did not hurt, but it looked like the invisible chains were breaking and golden sparks erupted from them in a tiny show of fireworks.  
It brought a smile to all of them. magic was incredible. And he was finally showing his kind of magic in the softest and most wonderous way.

  
“It looks so pretty” Patton whispered, eyes shining.

  
“Indeed it does” Logan agreed.

  
Roman just touched his arm briefly, sharing a smile with him with the same kind of elation he felt himself.

  
“Good execution Virgil. It is time for the blood spell, the sun is laying low” Elethea told them, making them all come back from their small victory celebration.

  
Logan and Roman stepped back as Patton began lighting the candles, giving him a small, brief smile, trying to convey that he was worried though still supportive of his choice. Virgil nodded, thankful, stepping further into the center of the circle as Patton reached the last candle.

  
“Wait” Elethea said, making them stop. “There has to be a server in the circle with you, ready to attend in case of something going wrong. You cannot break the circle from the outside or by force.”

  
Logan sent him a questioning feeling through their link, but before he could answer with his own mental voice, Roman had already stepped over the unlit candle and into the circle with him. Patton lit the last candle and they were caught in the ring of fire as the flames rose high.

  
“Good. Now kneel down facing the water and the set the box in front of you. Do you have a knife with you?”

  
He did as he was told and pulled out a small, dark dagger from his hoodie pocket. Roman standing by his back the whole time, shifting his weight slightly from foot to foot.

  
“Is it a prick or a cut?” he asked, looking over the tall flames from the candles to see Elethea watching them on the other side.

  
“That depends on how much your ancestor shared. You will have to let it flow unto the box though.”

  
Virgil turned back, rolling his eyes without anyone seeing.

  
“That’s helpful” he grumbled, taking the knife to his right palm, holding it just above the box. He felt a hand settle on his shoulder and heard Roman move to kneel by his side.

  
“Just start with a small cut, I don’t think it should have to be too deep” he whispered in his ear.

  
He had never liked pain. Who did? Was it really worth shedding blood for whatever was inside this box? Was his own curiosity his biggest curse? How much blood did he have to give? He would be travelling to Avalon; would he be able to come back?  
So many questions soared through his head. He took a deep breath and with resolution felt the burning sensation as he cut through his skin, fluids falling from both his eyes at the pain and the palm of his hand, drip dropping to the wooden box and the ground underneath.

  
The red kept falling, discoloring the wood and the stones. He heard Roman shushing from behind and felt his arms surround him, holding him tightly as his body began flexing on its own, straining against his will and small whimpers broke out through his quickening breaths.  
The burning carried off from his palm and it felt like it followed all of his blood streams throughout his bodies, ending in his too fast beating heart. It hurt like all hell, if he believed in that.

  
“You have to say the spell!”

  
“Se… S-Se bló- “he tried uttering the words, but the pain made his voice shake uncontrollably even though he could only muster a hissing whisper. “Se blód s-self…”

  
“Come on Virge. I know you can do it” Roman whispered encouragingly. He almost spat out for him to shut up and try burning from the inside out himself but could not muster the strength to be too indignant at the moment.

  
“Se blód self cnosl gewill inforlætan mec.”

  
Everything lit up in a white light and he felt himself falling, the pain disappearing with his senses of where he was, what he could see, hear or feel. There was nothing, he was floating in light the feel of Roman’s comforting arms gone and the whisper of his voice carried away in what should have been darkness.

  
He did not know what was up or down or which side he was turning to, but it felt like he was spinning slowly even though there were no wind picking up his hair or clothing.  
Suddenly his feet hit what should be ground, but everything was still white with no indication of what his surrounding was as he looked around. He was all alone in the too bright place he found himself trapped in.

  
“Where am I?” he breathed, shifting his gaze to the other side.

  
“You’re at the gates of Avalon my boy.”

  
He quickly moved around, finding the person he had hoped to see, breath leaving him in a great gust. He quickly picked up his jaw and ran to the welcoming arms that wrapped him up in a tight hug.

  
“Oh my dear, you should not be here yet” said his grandmother, her voice wavering.

  
“I’m only here for a little while grandmother” he told her, stepping back a step but still held unto her. He had to blink his eyes a couple of times to be able to see her properly. “I did a blood spell to open the box you gave me, there’s something inside that I want to know what is.”

  
Alaw stepped back too, narrowing his eyes at him.

  
“You and your curiosity, you were not meant to open it boy!” she said, scuffing the back of his head. “How did you even manage that? You’re not meant to do Old spells, you know that.”

  
“Elethea of Amesbury is helping me! she thinks she owes you” he said, avoiding another scuff.

  
“Of course she does” she sighed.

  
They stood in comfortable silence, not letting go of each other’s hands the whole time. He could almost see her calm aura, the blue colors of her soul shining through the skin of her temporary form. He wanted to stay with her but knew in his heart that it was not his time yet and he had gotten to a place in his life that more meaning than ever before and he wanted to go back to the people that had made a home in his heart. Some more powerful than others.  
He clenched her cold hand slightly.

  
“Grandmother…” she smiled back at him. “How do I open the box now? I’ve shared my blood and arrived here, but I don’t know what else to do.”

  
Her smile turned sad and her eyes unfocused as she let go of his hand, letting it fall to her side.

  
“You get permission.”

  
“Permission?” he asked. “From who? The one who locked the box?”

  
Her aura faded, her skin turning grey for a second before a stronger light escaped her. Virgil almost stepped back in fright as the calm blue completely washed away to leave room for the gold that quickly encased the only family he had ever known. He did not know what to say, he wanted to yell to stop whatever was happening, but he was frozen to the spot.  
A wave of golden light erupted from her form and flew through the white landscape, disappearing in the light after a while. Her former blue eyes looked at him with a sharp golden hue encasing the calm color until it was completely gone, her face stony and contemplating. He could not help his staring. This was not his grandmother any longer, it was the person same he had met on Halloween.

  
“W-who are you?”

  
“Úre ealdefæder fram monegum cnéorisna gefirn ” the person answered, voice almost ethereal, in a lack of a better word.

  
“So it’s your box?” he asked, gathering what was said to him quickly though the accent was very tough to get through.

  
The person nodded, a small recognizable smirk forming on the lips of his grandmother. It was weird. Why did his ancestor possess his grandmother’s spirit to talk to him? Could he not show his own face?

  
“Why are you hiding?”

  
The person huffed, looking at the palms of the body they inhabited for the moment.

  
“Ic bió oferdon beorthnan ” they answered, shrugging. He narrowed his eyes at that, thinking that it must be a powerful soul to warrant such a statement. He shifted his weight slightly, feeling trepidation encasing his heart the more he stood in their present. It was time.

  
He bowed low, feeling very formal but he had to ask for permission to open the box so that he could get out of here. He heard another huffed laugh.  
“May I open your box?”

  
He felt hands touch his shoulders, hands that before were ice-cold were now hot as burning coal, pushing him up to stand and look into the golden, otherworldly eyes. They squeezed shortly, before one finger came to poke at the tattoo hidden behind his hoodie.

  
“Gea .”

  
They flattened the hand, letting their palm rest there as they focused their gaze on the hand. He almost imagined how they could look through both skin and clothing to see the specific symbol resting as a black scar underneath his collarbone.  
“Bu offerhygdgest ” they whispered, white beginning to encase them as they finally looked up at him again, their strong eyes shining with emotion that almost looked like regret.  
He knew he was being pulled back, and he had a suspicion that whoever they were, they had something to do with it. He felt the simmering of burning pain bringing him back from the gate, from the land in between the land of the living and the afterlife of Avalon, but his heart cried out for his ancestor to understand why he could not be proud of who he was in the world he was living in.  
He hoped it was meant as a blessing rather than an advice from a person who had already lived through life.

  
“I can’t! please! Who are you?!”

  
The gold shone with power.

  
“Ic bió Emrys .”

  
A giant shock of electrical power ran through his body from the hand on his chest, pushing him away with a powerful thrust that send him spiraling into the deep whiteness. He was flying too fast, the air around him disappearing making him gasp for the precious life force. Dark edges grew in his eyesight, making the painfully white world disappear slowly with each second oxygen was held back from him. He could not breathe. He could not breathe.

  
He drew a great gasp of air the second the hands on his chest stopped pumping, choosing to frantically touch all over his face instead. Everything had a golden tint to it, that disappeared slowly with each breathe of life he was granted, the shapes turning into a dark, clouded sky, lit up by flashes of electricity and a desperate face with tear tracks running down its cheeks. Speaking to him. No yelling.

  
“-Okay Virge! You’re okay! Merlin’s miracles I thought I had lost you” the voice cried. He knew that voice, he knew that face, that blonde hair, those beautiful eyes.

  
“R-Roman?” he gasped, interrupting the hysterical words of the other.

  
“Oh my God” the Gryffindor breathed, picking him up from the ground in a crushing hug, crying softly into his neck, cold tears breaking out goosebumps.  
He did not understand. What happened? What was going on?

  
The fire surrounding them went out just as he looked at it, making way for Patton and Logan to break the line and get to the two in the center. They were both screaming words and sentences that mingled together in a mass of further confusion in Virgil’s head.

  
“-knew things would go wrong- “

  
“-you he was okay, I could still feel him! Kiddo, are you- “

  
“-big scam, that is what this is! I should go get a teacher for- “

  
“-faint, but I could still feel you! Great! And now I’m crying again!”

  
“Guys” he tried, but they kept talking over each other, Patton trying to yell over Logan’s high tones while crying loudly with snot running everywhere. He chose instead to try and get contact to the one closest to him, lifting his arm tiredly to pat the hair of the other with a very shaking hand.

  
“Roman?”

  
The blonde took a shuddering breathe before collecting himself and coming back to his senses to look at the raven haired in his arms, a small smile of relief coming through but looking so melancholy when a tear slid over his trembling lips.  
“You’re alive” he whispered.

  
“Yes” Virgil croaked slowly, not quite understanding. “I’ve been alive for a bit over fifteen years.”

  
“No I- “Roman tried, taking a deep breath for a second before looking him in the eye again, eyes shining. “I had to do CPR Virge, you were not responding or breathing. I didn’t know what to do, you just suddenly…” he gave up explaining, trembling hands gesturing slightly instead as he squeezed his eyes together again for a moment.

  
What?

  
“I told you I could still feel him Ro” Patton looked straight at Virgil, shaking all over. “I followed your consciousness somehow, but it scared me so much when you started fading, but then it was like you exploded back to us and you were all scrambled and breathing, and everyone was crying and scared and angry and it’s just too much!” Patton wailed, the desperate feelings straining his empathetic abilities.

  
“He wasn’t breathing Patton, he could’ve died!” Roman barked, his gaze furious and his arms aggressively protecting him.

  
“How are you feeling Virgil?” the Ravenclaw asked.

  
“I’m fine, a bit tired but that is to be expected I think” he answered, sitting up slowly with Roman helping him while fidgeting. The box was right in front of him, in between his legs, his shoes soaked from the waves that had touched them. he stretched to grab it, but Roman was faster and quickly gave it to him making Virgil smile wryly at the worried boy.

  
“I’m okay” he whispered reassuringly, though Roman did not react with a smile of his own.

  
“What do you mean with ‘it was expected’?”

  
Oh.

  
Virgil squirmed a bit, fiddling with the box instead of answering. He could see Logan shuffle his feet on the ground in his peripheral vision. Roman looked sharply up, angry heat coming off him in waves.

  
“Did you know about this? Did you know it would happen?!”

  
“Roman- “

  
His boyfriend rounded on him with wild eyes and a finger in his face.

  
“You be quiet.”

  
He clammed shut, not wanting to anger him any further. It probably was not fair to Logan who had warned him more times than he really cared to remember, but he was too tired to put up a fight with his better self, only having energy to feeling relieved that it was all over and their quest had been a success. Mostly a success anyway.  
He would talk with Roman about it and explain himself later, he owed that to him and he knew that if he chickened out Patton would certainly kick him at the Gryffindor either way.  
As he heard Logan and Roman mouthing off at each other and Patton trying to intervene peacefully, he turned his eyes to the family heirloom in his hands.  
The box was caked in his blood but did not feel that much different in his hands beside that. The burning in his body had subsided, but he hissed when a wooden corner made contact with his stinging wound.

  
“It all went mostly to plan” Elethea told them from where she came to stand by their side to watch him open it up. He heard Roman growl underneath his breath, but no other reaction was made as he went to open the box, pulling at the top and finally exposing its contents.

  
Everyone quieted down and he know he had all of their attention.  
A brown leather pouch laid upon the lavender velvety insides of the box, a single stain of something grey breaking the color next to the black little rope that held the pouch together. He pulled it out and shook it carefully, hoping that, that was not the only thing that was inside the freaking box.

  
Something was jumping around, satisfied he quickly unbound it and shook out its content into the palm that did not hurt.  
A silver ring flopped out and landed lightly in his hand. The four of them drew closer to look at the ordinarily everyday looking piece of jewelry. He took it into his fingers and lifted it up to his face to see it better.

  
It was pretty dense, not feeling like a fake metal but most likely real silver. The ring itself was decorated with lines made to look like scales, either from a snake or maybe a dragon. The top was thick and round, a signet ring, with some kind of a crest he had never seen before. It was a triskelion like the one he had on his chest that formed the background, with an impressively detailed hawk with outspread wings in the front. It was very pretty.

  
Elethea gasped from above them.

  
He looked into the pouch, shaking it out again for good measure. Was there anything else?

  
“That’s it?” Roman asked.

  
He shrugged, laying the pouch into the box again and pulled the ring on his left index finger, it shrunk magically to fit the digit perfectly.

  
“You almost died for a stupid ring?!”

  
He jumped at the screeching in his ear, stopping his admiration of the silver against pale skin, to look at the red-faced, angry features that were glaring daggers at the newly found jewelry.

  
“A very pretty ring” Patton whispered, Logan kneeling on a knee by Virgil’s side, adjusting his glasses to look better at the figures that made up the crest.

  
“I think I have seen that symbol before, maybe from one of my private tutoring sessions with my father. He has shown me countless pictures of family crests from lords and monarchs, especially in the magical communities.”

  
“Monarchs?” Roman and Virgil asked in unison.

  
“I thought druids had more of a democratic system” Patton said, confusion marring his voice.

  
“It is not normal for a regular family to have a crest, that has always been a separate possibility for higher standing, more ‘important’ and influential families. Also taking into account how difficult it was to open the box to get to the ring in the first place, it can only be a giving that the one owning the ring was important, making Virgil himself important due to that bloodline” Logan told them matter of fact.

  
“He is important either way” the Gryffindor grumbled under his breath, making Virgil flush red and snuggling a bit back into his chest.

  
Realization hit like cold water to the face. The golden ancestor he met had, had a powerful aura about him, so powerful that he could not take the chance of showing his soul completely to him and his name…

  
He leaped to his feet, to the shock and surprised yells of his friends as he stepped out of the circle and they quickly followed him, Logan prickling at his mind in inquiry.

  
How could he have not realized? They had told him that their name was Emrys, a name that he had heard a thousand times over from the storytellers and the texts he had read when he lived with the druids. It was a name surrounded by intimidated admiration and belief in the coming of a savior. Emrys was the immortal one, he was the one born from the fabric of the magic in the world, of the land, sea and sky. The one being in all creation that was magic incarnate.  
The wind picked up, wrestling with their hair and clothing, blue and purple light shining from separate windy spheres where figures were forming quickly and stepping out with purpose. It felt like his heart had stopped beating, his eyes widened at seeing the people he longed to see the least.

  
Taliesin and Norma had teleported to their spot at the black lake, with a seriousness to them that made his hackles rise. Elethea stepped up to their side, looking somewhat guilty yet determined.  
Logan send an alarmed feeling to him, warning him about the druidic leaders. He had been right all along.

  
“Is it true?” Taliesin asked, regarding Virgil with a composed wonder that he had never seen him have. Elethea nodded.

  
“I saw it myself, I am sure.”

  
He nodded acknowledging her and beckoned with a hand for Virgil to come to him. When he stood his ground instead and the others came up to his side in a protective line, Taliesin chose to move forward instead, though he did not seem to like the compromise. He did not like that his former leader came this close to him, bad memories of him getting scolded for his blood or made the laughing stock by an elder that should have protected the young.

  
Taliesin held out his hand, making his body stiffen in worried anticipation. A warm hand came to rest on his lower back.

  
“Can I see the ring?” he asked, not demanding for once.

  
“You don’t have to do it if you don’t want to” Patton told him on his right side, his eyes dark and glaring deathly daggers.

  
He appreciated their support and protectiveness and knew that if anything were to happen, they would all have his back. Slowly he moved his arm out toward the elder, letting him grab his hand with a gentleness he never thought would be used for him, to examine the ring closer.

  
His furrowed eyebrows steadily climbed higher, until they reached what would have been his hairline if he had not been bald.  
To Virgil’s and the other three’s surprise, he fell to a kneeling position in front of him, the two elders at his back doing the same, bowing their heads at him.

  
“My lord, we have awaited this day for a millennia” Taliesin told him lowly.

  
He yanked his hand away from his grasp, tumbling back into the arm that rested on his back, catching him before he could fall. This could not be real.  
The elders stood slowly, standing tall and awaiting in front of him. This was not happening. Reality did not shift that far in less than an hour, it was like his whole world had turned upside down.

  
“What’s going on?” he asked hesitantly, breaths coming out too fast and eyes widening and rounding. Roman gripped at his hoodie, pulling him closer to him and away from the druids.

  
“It has been the responsibility of the druids to keep the bloodline of Emrys safe and has been as such ever since the first prophecy of the Immortal One and the Once and Future King. Druids have been protecting the known line until Emrys himself entered the world, though when Albion fell, so it was thought that the line died out with our lord as well” Taliesin explained, tone important.

  
He gestured at the ring perched on his finger.

  
“Emrys was granted a crest from the Once and Future King on the day Albion was officially joined together. A crest showing his heritage of a Dragonlord, the symbol of the druids and the triads, as well as a figure of his falcon namesake. That ring is the symbol of our lord and the evidence of the bloodline still living to this day.”

  
Logan gasped next to them, his hand coming up as if he wanted to adjust his glasses but hesitating before he could.

  
“It is Merlin.”

  
Norma came forward, looking straight at him without fear.

  
“As the last living blood kin of Emrys, we will have to take measures to protect the line to the best of our abilities” she said, turning then to Taliesin. “This can never reach the outside, there is a possibility that he will be used by power grasping individuals as he is only just a child as of yet. He cannot stay in the wizarding community.”

  
Taliesin nodded.  
Virgil shook his head swiftly.

  
“We will have to make sure that he disappears completely from their world, no traces can be left behind” Taliesin agreed. “A memory spell should be sufficient.”

  
Roman ripped Virgil back behind him by his hoodie, whipping out his wand and stepping forward threateningly. Both Logan and Patton lifted their wands as well, though staying in the protective line. Waiting.

  
“You will do no such thing! I recommend that you all remove yourself from the schools premises and never return. Virgil will not go with bastard people like you, that bully and shun small children because of their blood, and then suddenly praise him for it because you find out that he was truly a swan all along!”

  
“Hear! Hear!” Patton yelled passionately.

  
Taliesin regarded Roman’s intimidating, large form with bored eyes, waving his hand dismissively.

  
“Step down boy, this does not involve you.”

  
“It does involve me, it involves all of us! We will not let you put your disgusting hands on him! Virgil has clearly made his choice about you months ago” Roman took a step further forward, baring his teeth in an animalistic grin. “Now… I only warn you one last time, if you do not disappear right now and forget about everything here, there will be hell to pay.”

  
Virgil felt a flutter in his stomach at the protective words. Roman was standing so proud, a larger than life figure in front of him, that made his heart swell with love. He could not help but smile, even though he knew his freedom was being threatened.

  
“Very well” the elder said, his voice chilling to the bone.

  
His hand flung out faster than possible and they all went flying through the air. The magical outburst felt like the ones Virgil had fired out uncontrollably throughout the year, scaring him deeply as they all scrambled to their feet again, Roman already flinging stunners toward the elders. The red beams close to hitting their moving targets.  
Logan quickly fired a jinx toward Norma when he found her readying to make her own attack against Roman, blue fire quickly extinguishing in her hands as she had to concentrate on the Ravenclaw instead.

  
“Thanks nerd!” he yelled as they stood back to back for a second before Logan moved closer toward Norma with quick, angry steps.

  
“In regards of you being rather creative, your name-calling could really use some work!”

  
Elethea and Patton faced off with smaller spells, the elder not really seeming quite into it, but Patton looked rapid as a lioness protecting her cubs, trying to hit her with spell after spell. The leader flicked the spells away with smooth hand moves, but never went for a counter attack.

  
Light beams shot throughout the lakeside. Blue, red and white colors flew through the air and lighting up the shadowy trees as much as the lightning in the sky did.  
Virgil stood by, not knowing what to do but too anxious to take his eyes off of spectacle in front of him. How could he help them? save them? how could they make the Elders go away? How could they all escape?

  
“Virgil get out of here!” Roman yelled at him, sending another beam of light at Taliesin, hitting his arm with a hissing sound that made the sleeve of his white robe smoke.

  
Virgil stepped around on the pebbles, shuffling them in his haste. He did not know what to do, he could not just leave them! They were his friends, his boyfriend! His chosen family and if they were there for him he would be damned if he was not there for them.  
With determination lit in his eyes, Virgil whipped out his own wand and ran to join Roman in the duel that had moved further toward the dark tree line. He felt a burst of powerful magic coming through the air and pushed out with his own as he swung his wand fiercely, feeling them crackle against each other as they met in a force of air and energy just after having thrown the Gryffindor off his feet.  
Taliesin looked at him as if he was crazy.

  
“Are you truly going to fight me with new magic?” he asked incredulously.

  
Sure is, he thought and swung his wand again, walking briskly forward.

  
“Someone didn’t want to teach me Old Magic! Incacerous!” rope shot out from his wand, moving fluidly through the air to bind his offender. Unfortunately it hit off mark, flying to incarcerate Taliesin’s arm, where it quickly was being melted off with his own defensive spell. The elder watched him darkly.

  
“This is rather bothersome.”

  
Roman had jumped to his feet a few paces in front of him, looking back at Virgil with wide, angry eyes, getting his attention immediately.

  
“What are you doing?! Run! Get the teachers, I’ll protect you!”

  
He was about to scream indignantly at him, that no he was not going to leave him- them, he wanted to help and that he did not need protection, he could protect himself just fine. Roman did not need to worry so much, it would give him wrinkles and it was Virgil’s area anyway. He wanted to say so much, but time was lost to him.  
Purple light incased the Gryffindor and he fell to his knees in one surprising swoop, emotions freezing and eyes unfocusing, revealing Taliesin standing right behind him, with a glowing hand resting on the back of his head and the other on his shoulder to hold him up.

  
“Anforlætan gemynd.”

  
The purple light shone bright and Roman’s eyes rolled back in his skull, a small gasp leaving his lungs at the effect of the spell. Virgil’s heart stopped, lungs constricted. No. he stumbled forward. No. No. No. No. No!  
His breath caught fire and his soul cried out for the triads to help him. They could not do this! Please, do not do this! Desperation showed in his crumbling face and power flew forward as his legs ran on their own, trying to protect his first love. Protect their first love, their relationship. He was ruining everything.

  
His wand flung out as a devastating scream ripped out from his throat, spell incantations long forgotten to make way for pure instinct.  
Electricity crashed against the inside of his skin and moved through his heart and gut and out toward his hand, releasing through the wand that he had been granted five years ago, where he had nervously been readying himself for a world of new magic, the wand a symbol of that.

  
He felt the pine wood splinter as the phoenix feather core exploded outwards with the powerful burst of uncontrollable Old Magic, formed in a frightening display of prevailing lightning splitting off all around him, yet it managed to hit the target he had set. His heart beating furiously with loss and the need to save Roman.  
Taliesin let go of his hostage with a grunt and eyes wide in fear or surprise, as the electricity hit him hard enough to fling him several feet through the air, in impressive flashes of light capturing him until he landed on the ground. Unmoving.  
Everything silenced as the crashing of thunder moved through the woods and far over the lake.

  
Virgil ran forward, just in time to catch Roman as he fell to the ground, eyes still open but not seeing.  
The falling weight made them crash to the ground, Roman clutched in his lap and his arms flung around him trying to get him out of the spell frantically. He did not care for the tears that were cascading down his cheeks and he did not think of the pain flashing in both of his hands, blood smearing on the blonde’s light jacket.

  
He called for him.

  
Called for him to snap out of it and come back idiot!

  
He cried for him to come back to him.

  
Roman’s pupils were blown wide and unseeing, the black mostly covering the sweet brown and the eyes as a whole were moving incredibly fast in their sockets. Small gasps and groans escaped him, sounding like he was fighting off pain.  
Virgil did not know what to do beside crying in frustration and powerlessness. He bent over to rest his head on the other’s forehead, whispering sweet nothings as he breathed in the minty air coming from the Gryffindor.

  
“Please come back to me” he whispered haltingly, his voice croaking and broken.

  
Pebbles moved near them and he flung out weaker strings of lightning toward the sound, before he looked up with a growl, hugging Roman closer to him, to see Norma jumping back from the electrical current that fizzled out quickly.

  
“Calm yourself child, I will not fight you” she told him, hands held up to placate him.

  
“I don’t want anything to do with you” he said lowly, eyeing his surroundings, checking that the rest of his friends were okay. Logan was helping Patton up from the ground, the Hufflepuff seeming somewhat confused and clutching his head with one hand.  
“You need to realize that we are blood bound by our ancestors to protect your bloodline, and with you being the last son of Emrys we will have to be careful” she tried explaining, but he did not want to listen.

  
They ruined everything. They had taken Roman’s memories and Merlin knows how much Taliesin had managed to take before he stopped him. What if he was brain damaged? What if the spell was still working and would not stop?  
He leaned in to rest against him again, breathing in his scent. A tear falling to the other’s face.

  
A feminine hand touched his shoulder and he shook it off harshly, lightning flickering over his form aggressively as he snarled and looked up at the startled face of the elder of Tobar Na H-aoise.

  
“Get out of here!” he bellowed at her. “I demand you as a son of Emrys, the last living of the line of your bloody lord to go away! And take that fucking bastard with you, if I ever see him again I’ll bloody kill him!”

  
Norma seemed to think for a second, but then decided to follow his command. She moved quickly over the pebbles and kneeled at Taliesin’s form, checking him over quickly before looking up at the last leader in their midst. He did not know if he was dead or not, frankly he did not care.

  
“Elethea” Norma called, but the third leader shook her head. The leader of the dark blue then spoke in the language of old, the wind picking up and light encasing the two forms until they were gone, having teleported away from the Hogwarts grounds.  
Logan and Patton came running with thundering steps, falling to their side with worry etched on both their faces.

  
“Oh my God, tell me he’s okay. He’s so frantic! I can’t get a read on him” Patton fumbled with his words, tripping over each and every one. Logan’s hand on his made him stop talking, instead looking in defeat at the pair on the grounds.  
None of them knew what to do, he knew. Logan would have said something if he did, but both his mouth and his mind was silent.

  
“There is nothing we can do, but let the spell run its course. It is working its way through his system as we speak” Elethea quietly told them.

  
Logan swung around furiously.

  
“Why did you call for them?! Do not think that we do not know that it was you, none of us did it and they arrived while our bloody backs were turned!”

  
Virgil looked up to see the exchange. He felt exhausted. Heartbroken. His breath kept hitching and quiet sobs kept wanting to break out, but he held them inside though the tears on his face kept falling endlessly.  
She was about to answer, when an important question left his lips on its own.

  
“How much will he forget?” he croaked out, Adams able bobbing with effort to hold in his cries.

  
She looked at him sorrowfully.

  
“I cannot say. I do not know how far Taliesin got, but he was most likely trying to erase every memory of you.”

  
“Oh Gods!” he sobbed out. He could not hold it in any longer. It was destroyed, everything was gone! If only he had gotten to him sooner, no. if only he had done as Roman told him to and had run back to the castle instead, maybe get a teacher to help them, none of this would have happened.

  
It was all his fault.

  
He cried harder.

  
It felt like his heart had burst into a million pieces and his body was screaming at him to find peace that could not be found.

  
A hand touched his shoulder consolingly.

  
“I am so sorry Virgil, this was not the outcome I had hoped for I hope you know that” she said emotionally. “I know that this is difficult, and that Taliesin did a very awful thing that should not have happened, it is against our ways to seek violence as the first step to achieving things. But to follow our ways, this, you Virgil, are our most honor bound treasure to protect. You must know that if knowledge of your ancestry gets out, you will not be safe anywhere. That is why you must come back to the druids. We will teach you to control your power, your instincts, and make sure you will not end up accidentally hurt anyone.”

  
He shook his head, heaving for breath in between devastating sobs, clinging to Roman’s jacket.

  
“I know that this is hard, but please think this through. What do you think would happen? Such a secret cannot be kept, even if it is between you and your friends for now. When you opened that box… you did not just find a ring, you got permission to reach for your heritage to bind yourself to it. You will have a different aura from now on and wizards and even muggles will feel that you are of a powerful bloodline. Some will come to question that and work it out on their own.”

  
She put a finger under his chin and pushed for him to meet her eyes.

  
“You know this is for the best.”

  
And he did. He knew that with how the world was and what was happening in the wizarding community, people were more apt to ask questions toward things or beings that had something to do with the old ways and the time of Camelot. If someone found out… would they go directly to him or would they go for his friends? What would they do to get to him? Could they get hurt? Could he hurt them? this power… he had no control.  
Patton and Logan… and Roman.

  
He did not fit in, in their world either way. If he could protect them by leaving, by connecting with the druids and his heritage instead of floundering around in a society where his magic was an outside force, he would do it.  
He had hurt people before, he should not be here. He had hurt Roman, he should not be here. And Roman did not remember him, what else mattered now?

  
Virgil clenched the jacket, swallowing his sobs multiple times, resolution set in his eyes with the burning of his tears.

  
“Virgil?”

  
A broken sound escaped him as he flung himself at the Gryffindor. Roman’s eyes were focused but heavy, his voice sounding like it was laced with cotton. The grip of his hands were weak as he held unto his arms desperately.

  
“Virgil?”

  
He sniffled and hushed him, kissing his cheeks and lips.

  
“You’re okay Ro, you’re okay. You’re so strong, so, so strong.”

  
“Don’t go Virgil.”

  
It almost killed him. The voice, the minty breath that fell on his face when he tried to smile reassuringly down at the other.

  
“It’s okay Ro. Everything will be okay, I’ll be back once I learn to control this thing” he told him, fluffing up his hair gently and huffing a broken laugh. “I won’t get to throw you in the air all the time when I get back.”

  
Roman did not smile back, his brow furrowing instead in question.

  
“Who are you?”

  
A sob broke through the air, but it was coming from somewhere else. Virgil kept staring into the eyes he always had admired, first from afar and then luckily up close. He tugged gently at the pale strands before letting go with a shuddering sigh.  
“It’s going to be okay Ro. You’ll be okay and I’ll find you again, I promise.”

  
“Of course… but who are you?”

  
He bent down to plant a teary kiss upon his first love’s forehead, before shakingly letting go to stand up. Patton and Logan quickly followed, outrage and desperation steaming from them.

  
“Don’t do it, she’s just painting bad words in your heart!” Patton exclaimed. “Roman remembers you, didn’t you hear him?! We can fix him!”

  
“I agree to the fullest, you do not have to do this there must be other ways to hide your heritage from the world” Logan said, eyes shining behind the thick glasses. Mind screaming at him to stay.  
He only shook his head sadly, pulling the Ravenclaw into a crushing hug. The arms of the other came up and around his back faster than ever.

  
“I’m sorry Logan, I don’t think that I can hide it anymore.”

  
“But you are hiding with them too” he whispered back, sniffling slightly.

  
Virgil stepped back and dried his tears away with his sleeve. He tried to smile at his friends, but it came out broken and sniffling. Patton wailed and crushed him in a hug, his harsh cries loud in his ear, but his arms strong and calming. He clenched a few more tears out before stepping back out of that embrace too, looking both of them in the eyes with as much confidence as he could find in himself.

  
“I’ll come back. I promise.”

  
Patton shook his head, taking a step forward to grasp at his arms. his hands gentle as if touching a frightened animal. His eyes were pleading with him, but he knew that he could not do what he asked him. He had to go. He had to protect them.  
Virgil took Patton’s hands in his own and clenched slightly, mustering a small smirk.

  
“I promise Pat.”

  
The Hufflepuff stared him down, he knew his emotions were being measured, tasted. Nothing could be hidden from the empath and they both knew it, yet Patton nodded slowly and let go.  
He stepped back, looking them in the eyes one last time before taking a brave stand, back straightening and chin up to lift what felt like the weight of the world better. With heavy steps, he turned and walked to meet Elethea away from his chosen family.  
Her eyes were shining as well when he met her gaze and took her outstretched hand, ready for the teleportation spell to hit. He took a deep breath and stood by her side, gazing back at the trio, where Patton had knelt to hug a confused Roman and Logan stood vigilant a step behind them.

  
Deep breath in.

  
He was ready, but he had a request for Elethea and another for Logan.

  
“Please don’t let the rest forget me, just… just let Patton and Logan remember and m-maybe tell the school that I’m going into homeschooling for my Old Magic” he whispered, not sure that he could speak without his voice cracking.  
She regarded him with sad eyes, but a twinkling lit up in her melancholic gaze.

  
“Is that a command… my lord?”

  
“Yes” he answered without question.

  
A picture of the four of them together, with a feeling of protectiveness attached to it, and a mental picture of Roman’s beautiful eyes and soft smile, with the melancholic waves of sadness of secrecy, was send to the smart Ravenclaw just as the teleportation spell lit up in green, beautiful light, taking him away from the life he had built in his last year at Hogwarts.

  
The message came through crystal clear, making the Ravenclaw sob for the first time since he was nine, clenching his eyes shut to avoid seeing the view of his friend gone.

  
Take care and protect Roman and Patton.  
Do not tell Roman.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My knowledge in regards of Anglo-Saxon English is not that good, but I tried my hand at it anyway.
> 
> Úre ealdefæder fram monegum cnéorisna gefirn - Your forefather from very long ago
> 
> Ic bió oferdon beorthnan - I burn too bright
> 
> Gea - Yes
> 
> Bu offerhygdgest - Be brave (I think? I really should have written the meaning of offerhygdgest down)
> 
> Ic bió Emrys - I am Emrys
> 
>  
> 
> If you want news from The Crest of Merlin (the series) I'm thinking of posting some via my tumblr "thestoryoferissur"  
> Hope I'll see you there and that you want to learn more of this universe.

**Author's Note:**

> Playlist for The Crest of Merlin - a song for each chapter:
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=x6wMinZPiHo&list=PLFZqzIR8tuAzMAnwsIAYEgwGUyDR-ILG9


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